


A Ghost In The Opera

by ChatDuNoir



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom, Phantom of the Opera
Genre: Character Death, Crossover, Emma is a singer, F/F, Mentions of Violence, Opera Garnier, Paris - Freeform, Phantom of the Opera - Freeform, With A Twist, lots of twists, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 377,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatDuNoir/pseuds/ChatDuNoir
Summary: Seventeen year old Emma Swan arrives at Opera Garnier in Paris to be a part of the chorus ensemble and follow her passion for singing. The room she's gonna live in for the next six months has a beautiful, old mirror that's very eye catching. Emma has barely arrived before she learns that her room once belonged to someone else...
Relationships: Emma Swan/Regina Mills
Comments: 556
Kudos: 433





	1. Overture

”Welcome to The Opera Garnier, miss Swan,” Malena Drake said as she made a grand gesture with her hand. 

Seventeen year old Emma Swan looked up at the building in awe. She could hardly believe that she was actually here. The Opera Garnier. The Paris Opera. She was officially a member of the ensemble.  
Well, for now. Six months’ trial time to see how she fitted in, but still! She had done nothing but working hard for this. To sing and make sure that the right people noticed her, and now it had finally happened. She had participated in every single elimination round and was now officially a member of the choir here at the Opera Garnier. She thought fondly about her parent’s back home in Maine who had been there with her every step of the way. She knew how proud they were of her. And she would continue to make them proud. She would dedicate herself to singing. Think only of singing and not get into any trouble what so ever. A little sigh escaped her as she tipped her head back and looked up at the impressive building.

“Take it all in, miss Swan,” Malena chuckled. “I know it’s impressive the first time.”

“It’s amazing!” Emma blurted out and could feel how she blushed a little. She nervously adjusted her glasses. Perhaps she was gangly and socially awkward when interacting with people, but when she was singing on stage, everything changed. Emma had been obsessed with singing ever since she was a little girl. singing was all she thought about, what she lived and breathed for, and now she was here. In Paris. At the opera. To attend a summer school and get even better at what she loved. It seemed like a dream come true. 

“Follow me, miss Swan,” Malena said. She was the talent scout who had spotted Emma singing in New York and had offered her a chance to become a part of the choir here in Paris. She knew talent when she saw it, and it hadn’t taken her long to convince Emma’s parents that Emma of course had to come to Paris. This was the chance of a lifetime. Opera Garnier. Yes, Emma was somewhat younger than the other members in the choir was, but that didn’t matter, Malena said. Talent went above age. She had been so nice to Emma. Had picked her up in the airport and driven her straight to the opera and assured the blonde to just come to her if she needed anything. Emma couldn’t have asked for a better “mentor” during her stay in Paris. She fidgeted with her glasses again as she followed Malena inside, and she tried to keep her jaw in place as she looked around. It was hard not to get overwhelmed. The Opera Garnier had been Emma’s dream for as long as she could remember. She had already sung on many stages before. Some of them big, a lot of them small, but singing at the Opera Garnier’s stage... that belonged in a league of its own for sure. 

Malena led her up a grand staircase, through a door and down a number of corridors. Emma felt a pang of anxiety. Of her skills in singing she was not unsure, but what about the social part of it? Emma wasn’t a people person. She preferred to keep to herself and participating in conversations was one of the worst things that could happen in her world. She was relieved that she would be having her own room. And even more relieved that it was only temporarily. She would have to look for her own apartment soon. An apartment in Paris. God, it sounded too good to be true!

Emma quickly lost count of how many stairs and twisted hallways Malena led her through, but she did know that she would be needing a map to find her way around. She shook her head. Rehearsals started tomorrow. How was she ever supposed to get to know the place in such short time? It seemed impossible. 

“Here we are,” Malena announced after staircase number two hundred or something that felt like it. “This hallway here is known as the choir’s quarters. No entrance unless you’re a part of the choir.”

Emma looked around in the hallway, looked at the line of doors. Behind one of those doors was her new room. Her new life. Emma’s heart started thudding again. 

“The bathroom is just downstairs and to your left,” Malena told her. “And-“

She was interrupted when a door was slammed open and a girl, perhaps one or two years older than Emma came tumbling down the hallway. She was tall and gangly and there were red streaks in her dark  
brown hair.

“Good afternoon, Ruby,” Malena said a tad overbearingly and shook her head. 

“Oops, sorry,” the girl-Ruby- said sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Well, as you can see, I am, so I would advise you not to run,” Malena said strictly. 

“Sorry,” Ruby repeated and glanced at Emma. “New choir singer?”

“Yes,” Malena said before Emma could get the chance to answer. “This is Emma Swan.”

“Oh!” Ruby grinned. “You’re the girl from Maine! The one who sang in New York and impressed Malena so much she had to get you even though you’re not-“

“Thank you, Ruby. That’s quite enough,” Malena said strictly. “We don’t have time for chitchat right now. Emma’s had a long journey and her suitcase is heavy.”

“Of course! Do you want me to show you your room?” Ruby asked good-naturedly. 

“I’ll be showing Emma her room, but you may keep us company if you wish to and help her get settled in,” Malena said graciously. 

“I’d like that,” Ruby smiled. “Been a while since a new choir singer joined us.” She stuck her hand out towards Emma. “Hi. I’m Ruby Lucas. I’m in the choir too.”

Emma sat her suitcase down and accepted the handshake even though her palm was sweaty. She hoped Ruby wouldn’t notice it. “Emma Swan. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ruby grinned. “I’m looking forward to singing with you! I saw the video of you singing in New York! Your voice is ama-“

“I said, enough chitchat, Ruby,” Malena scolded. “Rehearsals starts tomorrow, and Emma needs some time to get settled in. There will be plenty of time to talk later. Now follow me.”

Emma grabbed a firm hold of her suitcase again and half-stumbled after Malena down the hallway. They didn’t walk very far. Just a few doors down. 

“Hey, that’s not too far from my room!” Ruby chirped behind them, but Emma was sure she heard something in the brunette’s voice when she continued: “but that’s not-“

“Yes, here we are. 815. This will be your new room,” Malena interrupted. “I’m afraid it’s not very big, but I do hope it’ll do.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Emma said hastily and toyed with her blonde ponytail. It was going frizzy. “I don’t take up that much space.”

Malena flashed her a smile and placed a large and surprisingly heavy key in Emma’s free hand. “There we are. Your very own key. Are you ready to take a look, miss Swan?”

“Oh yes!” it bursted out of Emma and she dropped her suitcase on the floor with a thunk in her eagerness to unlock the door. 

Malena chuckled richly and took a step back to give Emma some room. Emma fumbled a bit with to insert the key in the lock. Her palms were sweaty, and her excitement made it all the more difficult. But after a moment she succeeded in unlocking the door, and it swung open with a loud creak. Emma grabbed her suitcase and went inside. She stumbled slightly over the high threshold and had to support herself by putting a hand on the wall. She regained balance and straightened her posture. Finally she could take the very first look at her new room. Malena was right, it wasn’t that big. But that was alright. Emma didn’t require that much space, really. There was a bed in the corner, a wooden dresser where she could put all of her clothes, and a little bedside table. But what really caught her eye was the large, full figure mirror that covered one wall. Emma thought to herself that it was a beautiful mirror. 

“Well, how do you like your new room, miss Swan?” Malena asked briskly as she looked over Emma’s shoulder. 

“It’s very nice,” Emma assured and meant it. Yes, she would be happy here. How could she be anything but here at Opera Garnier? This was everything she’d ever dreamed of. 

“Excellent. I’m very happy that you like it. Do you think you’ll feel at home here? I know it’s an enormous change from Maine.”

Emma laughed a little. “It sure is. But it’s perfect. This is everything I could ever ask for.”

“But this is Christine’s old room,” Ruby piped up behind Malena. 

“Christine?” Emma echoed and frowned in confusion. “Who’s Christine?” 

“The girl who lived in this room before you. But she doesn’t anymore however, so there’s no problem,” Malena dismissed and gave Ruby a warning look. 

Emma’s curiosity was immediately roused, but she wasn’t so dumb she was gonna ask more about it now. Given how Malena had just brushed off Ruby, that would clearly be a bad idea. 

“I like the room,” she said to change the subject and put on a smile for Malena. 

Malena returned the smile. 

“I live just two doors down!” Ruby interjected. “813. Come into my room when you’ve unpacked. I think it would be nice to get to know each other, don’t you? You can meet some of the other girls too!”  
and with that, she scurried down the hallway as fast as she had appeared. 

“Ruby is a nice girl,” Malena said and chuckled a bit as she looked after the young brunette. “She’ll soon make you feel at home here.”

“She seems very sweet,” Emma said quickly. She was eager to fit in and make the most of her six months here. 

“I’ll leave you to unpack and check up on you later, alright?” Malena said after having glanced at her watch. “If you need anything, I’ll be right downstairs.”

“Alright,” Emma said and smiled even though she had no idea what ‘right downstairs’ meant. When it came to ‘downstairs’ there was a million different opportunities to choose from. She had no idea how  
to find Malena, and she hoped that it wouldn’t be required. 

Malena flashed her one last smile and then took off down the hallway. Emma glanced after her for a few seconds and then she turned her attention back to her brand-new room. She closed the door  
behind her and looked around one more time. Dumped her suitcase on the bed and walked over to the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her, and Emma cringed a bit. Her ponytail had gone frizzy. Her glasses were greasy. Her mascara was a bit smudged, her cheeks had reddened in that way they always did when she was stressed, and her green eyes were entirely too big. She could definitely need to freshen up a bit. She reached back and undid her ponytail Golden tendrils spilled down her shoulders, and Emma ran two fingers through her hair. It felt greasy from travelling. Maybe she would take a quick shower before knocking on Ruby’s door. 

She turned around and went over to the bed and opened the suitcase. First, she had to unpack. Everything else would have to wait. Unpack and get settled. And then text her parents to let them know she had arrived in one piece. She had promised them that. She systematically began to carefully put her neatly folded clothes away in the wooden dresser. Now and then she looked up, looked towards her mirror and smiled at her reflection. This was the start of something new and exciting. She could just feel it. 

To Be Continued??


	2. Recall The Strange Affair

Unpacking her stuff didn’t take that long. Emma closed the drawer in the wooden dresser and rose from her crouched position. She grabbed her suitcase and stuffed it away under her bed. Then she glanced at herself in the mirror. She still looked “greasy”, but she decided that showering would have to wait. Ruby had asked to her to come into her room. Emma didn’t want to make her wait. That would be rude. She could grab a shower before she went to bed. For now, she settled for grabbing her hairbrush and brushing through her slightly frizzy hair until it shone, and the tangles turned to soft curls. 

She adjusted her glasses slightly, shrugged off her denim jacket and brushed a hand over the green dress she was wearing today. Once certain she looked alright, she turned around and left her room. 

She made sure to carefully lock the door and slip the key into her pocket, but as she turned around to head towards Ruby’s room, she almost collided with someone. 

“Oh! I’m sorry!” she exclaimed and flushed. Of all the people in all the world, why did it have to be him she nearly knocked over?

The elderly man in the elegant suit smiled at her and regained balance by gripping a little more firmly onto his cane. “That’s quite alright, dearie. You must be miss Swan from Maine.”

“That’s right,” Emma confirmed and smiled nervously at him. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, miss Swan,” he said and extended his free hand out towards her.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she said shyly and hoped her palm wasn’t too sweaty as she shook his hand once. 

“I’ve heard quite a lot about you,” he said as he released her hand again. “I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful addition to the choir.”

“Thank you.” Emma blushed again. 

“How are you settling in in your new quarters?” he asked, as he glanced at her room door. “I can imagine it’s quite the change.” 

“It is, but I’m so happy to be here, it’s a dream come true!” Emma babbled. 

He smiled once more, and it made the wrinkles around his eyes all the more pronounced. “That’s good to hear. I’m looking forward to seeing the first show. Have a good evening, miss Swan.”

“You too, Mr. Gold.”

He walked off with his cane lightly tapping against the floor, and Emma was left starstruck. She had never met Mr. Alexander Gold until now, but she already knew all about him. He was a legend. The owner of Opera Garnier. The man who made all of this possible. Wealthy beyond words and adored by everyone. And now Emma had met him. She had shook his hand. She shook her head and couldn’t quite believe it. She had barely been here for half an hour, and she had already met the man who owned this place. And he was gonna be witnessing the first performance she would be in. Emma might just be a choirs’ girl, her place would be in the back and she doubted that the owner of Opera Garnier would pay much attention to her, but she still wanted to do well. The knowledge that he would be present for the first performance was more than enough motivation to strive even harder. 

Emma shook her head. She was getting lost in her own head. She was supposed to meet Ruby. Time to get a move on. 

She quickly turned around and walked the two doors down to Ruby’s room. She knocked on the door and immediately cringed at the sound. That was loud. Too loud.

“Come in,” Ruby briskly called.

Emma carefully pushed the door open and peered inside. The room wasn’t much bigger than hers and the mirror was smaller. Ruby was sitting crossed legged on the bed with another brunette that appeared to be the same age as her. From what Emma could judge, Ruby was perhaps a few years older than herself.

“Hey, Emma. Come in,” Ruby said and flashed her a friendly smile and a come here gesture. 

Emma weaseled inside the room and closed the door behind her.

“Come sit down,” Ruby chippered as she waved a bottle at Emma. “You want a sip?”

“No thank you. I’m not old enough to drink,” Emma said politely. 

“Oh, shoot. My bad,” Ruby said with a chuckle. 

The other girl rolled her eyes at Ruby and rose from the bed. She smiled as she came over to Emma and extended her hand out. “Hello, Emma. My name’s Belle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Belle,” Emma smiled and noted that Belle had an Australian accent.

“Are you getting settled in alright?” Belle asked and tugged a lock of her chocolate brown hair behind her ear. 

“Yes, I think so.”

“Come sit down both of you!” Ruby insisted. “No one can chitchat when they stand around like you do.”

Emma chuckled as she followed Belle back to the bed and sat down like Ruby had requested. The mattress creaked a little. 

Ruby took a swig of whatever was in the bottle and then asked: “so? How do you like your new room?”

“It’s very nice,” Emma said immediately. “I like it a lot.” 

“Not much room, though,” Ruby commented with a chuckle.

“I don’t need that much room,” Emma said and smoothened a hand over her dress again. “I just met Mr. Gold. He wished me welcome to the opera. He was very nice.”

“That’s great,” Ruby smiled and shook the bottle lightly. “Are you sure you don’t want a little sip? It’s been watered down, so it’s not that strong.” 

Emma didn’t want to be rude, so she accepted the bottle and took a little sip. It didn’t really taste of anything. Mostly water, like Ruby had said. One sip couldn’t hurt.

“There we go,” Ruby smiled. “Welcome to the opera, Emma!”

“Thank you,” Emma said and returned the smile. Ruby was nice. Belle was nice. There was nothing to be nervous about. 

“I’m sure you’ll love it here,” Belle chirped in. “It’s hard work, but it’s so worth it!”

“I know it will be,” Emma said. “I really hope I’ll be able to stay once the six months are up.”

“I’m sure you will,” Ruby said kindly. “Malena was pretty hyped when she came from New York after hearing you sing. She said that you were good enough to sing solo.” 

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Emma chuckled and shook her head. “And that’s not what I want either. I could never sing solo on a stage like this. I’d get nervous. The auditions were a nightmare because of my stage fright. I prefer singing in the choir and be a part of a unity instead.”

“Really?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “You must be the only girl who’s not eager to sing solo.”

Emma shrugged lightly. “I’m just too nervous.” She licked her lips and nodded towards the bottle in Ruby’s hand. “Can I have some more of that?”

“You’re sure?” Ruby asked and tilted her head a little. 

“Absolutely,” Emma assured. One more sip couldn’t hurt. Meeting new people was nerve-wracking. A bit of liquid courage wouldn’t hurt. 

Ruby handed her the bottle, and Emma took another sip. Just a deep gulp. Just a little mouthful. Then she smiled. She already felt more confident even though that was probably just her imagination. The alcohol wasn’t that strong. 

Ruby and Belle were a couple of nice girls. Belle had been a member of the choir for two years, and Ruby for three. They were both well-versed in the do’s and don’ts here. 

“Don’t be late,” Ruby said and pointed at Emma with the bottle. “That’s the first rule. Mal get’s pissy if you’re late for rehearsals.”

Emma nodded. She had never once been late for a rehearsal. 

“And make yourself a cup of tea with three spoonsful of honey the minute you feel a tickle in your throat,” Belle added. “Don’t assume it’ll go away on its own.”

“And don’t try to sing anyway if you DO have a tickle in your throat,” Ruby chirped in. 

“Don’t sleep with your window open on cold winter nights,” Belle said. “Don’t wander around in the corridors at night. I got lost so many times during my first year here, it was ridiculous.”

“Inviting guys into your room is strictly forbidden,” Ruby said with a smirk. 

“That won’t be a problem.” Emma’s laughter was nervous now. She had never really been interested in guys, but of course that didn’t mean she was gonna invite girls into her room. That wasn’t why she was here. 

“Drinking excessively in the weekends is also frowned upon,” Belle commented. “And coming home late. That’s not the smartest thing to do either.”

“And then there’s of course the usual stuff like disagreeing with the teacher and thinking you’re better than everyone else,” Ruby laughed. “That’s a dumb thing to do, but that won’t be your first impulse, will it?”

Emma chuckled. “Definitely not.” 

“Awesome,” Ruby grinned. “Then I think you’re pretty much all set. Got any questions?”

“Yes,” Emma said. “Who’s Christine?” she didn’t quite know why it was exactly that question that slipped out of her. Maybe it was because she was meeting new people and that made her nervous and not in control over her mouth. Or maybe it was because of the funny look in Malena’s eyes when Ruby mentioned Christine. 

A shocked silence fell over the room. Belle’s blue eyes widened as she turned her head and stared at Ruby who was biting her lip. Her eyes flickered, and now she was the one who seemed nervous. 

Obviously, it didn’t take long before that feeling rubbed off on Emma. Had she said something wrong? Maybe she had. She was good at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. She cringed and brought one hand up to fiddle with her hair like she so often did when she was nervous. 

“You told her about Christine?!” Belle hissed at last. 

“No!” Ruby defended. “I haven’t! Not really. It just slipped out because Emma is staying in her room. Old room.”

“Ruby, you know we’re not supposed to-“

“I know, okay? It was an accident!”

“What are you talking about?” Emma asked. “Who is Christine?”

Ruby and Belle looked at each other. “We’re not really supposed to talk about Christine,” Belle said almost timidly. 

“Why not?” Emma asked curiously. “Is it a secret?”

“No...” Ruby said and her mouth twisted. “I mean, not really.”

“Okay. Maybe I should ask Malena then-“

“No!” Ruby barked. “God, no! I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Ruby,” Belle warned. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ruby said as she got up from the bed. “But she’s already curious and she would be just about the only one who doesn’t know about it if we don’t tell her.” 

“Tell me what?” Emma asked. Now she was really intrigued. “What is it about this Christine?”

Ruby sighed as she roamed through her dresser for a moment and then came back to the bed. She was holding a picture in her right hand, and she dumped it on the pillow as she climbed up in bed and   
wiggled into a comfortable position. “That’s Christine,” she said as she pointed to the picture. “Christine Daaé.”

Emma squinted slightly behind her glasses as she looked at the picture. It was a photo of a chorus ensemble. Emma could recognize the white, matching dresses they were wearing. The female members of the chorus ensemble were always wearing white dresses when performing. Emma could recognize Ruby amongst the choir members, and for a second she was distracted by that, but then she followed Ruby’s pointing finger and looked at a young woman who was standing right at the very center. She had honey golden hair that hang in soft curls and framed her face. Her eyes were deep blue, and she was smiling brightly at the camera. Emma could see the hopefulness in her eyes. 

“Daaé,” Emma repeated and looked up from the picture again. “Is she related to Gustave Daaé? The Swedish violinist?”

“Yep, his only daughter,” Ruby nodded. “Malena was good friends with Gustave, and when he died, she took Christine in. I guess you could say Christine was her protégé.”

“Was?” Emma echoed and raised an eyebrow. 

“Malena brought Christine to Opera Garnier when she was seventeen years old,” Ruby began the tale. “Christine didn’t have any family left in Sweden, so I don’t think the choice was that hard. Anyway, the point was that Christine was gonna be a member of the chorus ensemble, but Christine couldn’t sing to save her life. Sounded like an old rusty hinge-“

“Ruby!” Belle protested. 

“She said so herself,” Ruby reminded her friend, and then to Emma: “I knew Christine. She was actually a friend of mine. Anyway, she wasn’t having an easy time. People assumed that just because she was Gustave Daaé’s daughter she should be musically gifted. But she wasn’t. And she was bullied for it.”

“That’s terrible,” Emma said. She could fully relate to how it felt to be bullied.

“Mmm, she often thought about leaving the opera,” Ruby. “But then something happened. Her voice improved. Became clearer and she got more control over her breathing technique. In time, she became one of the front figures in the choir. That was how good her voice got.” 

Emma raised an eyebrow. From rusty old hinge to that? “But how...?”

“I asked her the same,” Ruby said with a headshake. “But Christine... She could be very secretive. Aloof, sometimes. And she liked to joke around. She told me that she was being tutored by someone. An ‘angel of music’.”

“An angel of music?” Emma repeated and couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. 

“Believe me, I had the exact same reaction,” Ruby assured. “I thought she was joking. But Christine told me that she had been feeling a presence in her room. That someone was there with her whenever she was singing and helped her improving. Tutored her.” 

Emma shook her head. “But that sounds completely-“

“Mad?” Ruby finished the sentence. “Yep, it sure does, doesn’t it? I didn’t believe her either, but Christine insisted that she was telling the truth. That she really was being tutored by the Angel of Music, as she called it. I teased her about her “invisible” teacher and started calling whatever it was “the Phantom of the opera”. Because, according to Christine, this ‘something’ lived in the crypts underground. But the other members of the chorus didn’t find it funny. They claimed that Christine had been able to sing all along and made a show out of ‘suddenly’ improving so dramatically, and many of them were jealous of her because she started getting solo roles...”

“But that doesn’t sound so bad,” Emma said. She had no idea whether Christine had been faking her dramatically improved voice or not, but still, getting solo roles was good. If that was what she wanted.   
And it clearly had been. “So where’s she now?”

“That’s just it,” Ruby said quietly, and her eyes glazed over with sadness. “On the night of her great performance, Christine suddenly disappeared. It was chilling. She had just given the performance of a lifetime, and suddenly she was gone. Vanished in thin air.”

Emma felt goosebumps pebble on her skin, and she had to rub her arms a little. “Vanished? But how? Where did she go? What happened to her?”

“A search party was organized,” Ruby continued, and now her voice was quiet. “No one had seen her leave the opera, so she had to still be here somewhere. The opera was searched from top to bottom, and the next morning they found her in the underground lake in the crypt...”

“There’s an underground lake here?” it bursted out of Emma, and she immediately cringed. She was focusing on the wrong thing in order to not get completely consumed by the scary tale. “Sorry. Go on.”

Ruby shook her head a little. “I never really found out what happened to her. Some says she got lost and drowned down there. And others claim that she went down there to commit suicide.”

“But why would she do that?” Emma asked. “It was her big night.”

“Exactly!” Ruby said eagerly. “Christine was not depressed. She was when she came here because of her father’s death, but she had gained friends here, and she was on her way to something big, you know? She was about to get it all. And yeah, she might have been eccentric, but she wasn't crazy either.”

“So she drowned?” Emma asked doubtfully. 

“I don’t buy that either,” Ruby said plainly. “Christine spent most of her childhood floundering around in Swedish lakes. She was a great swimmer, and that underground lake isn’t even that deep.”

“Then what happened?” Emma asked and felt how her skin was prickling now. This was a right ghost story!

Ruby lowered her voice as she continued the story: “I made up “the Phantom of the opera” as a joke. A way to tease Christine a bit, but after she died... weird shit happened. And I don’t just mean odd things. No, the fucking chandelier suddenly fell down one night! It was a miracle that no one died or got hurt.” She shook her head and rubbed her own arms. “I started to think what if Christine had been partially right? Suppose she really had messed with someone that lived in the cellar? Someone that didn’t want to be found by anyone...”

“But that’s impossible,” Emma said and shook her head. “No one would be able to live in the crypt without getting noticed-“

“You’re quite right, miss Swan.” 

Everyone jumped at the sound of Malena’s voice, and when Emma turned her head, she found the older blonde standing in the doorway. 

“M-Malena,” Belle stuttered. 

Malena looked strictly at all three of them as she came into Ruby’s room. “Christine Daaé’s dead was a tragic accident,” she said in a clipped tone. “And in a way my fault because she was my responsibility.   
I promised her father to look after her, and I failed both of them when it really mattered. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to her.” 

Belle and Ruby looked embarrassed at one another, and Emma looked down at her hands. 

“Miss Lucas, I’ve warned you about scaring the younger students,” Malena said brusquely. “Christine’s death is not a story you treat like its light entertainment. Or a ghost story.”

“I know that. I’m sorry, Malena,” Ruby said quickly. 

“And you, miss French,” Malena said as she turned to Belle. “You should know better than to let Ruby tell the story.”

“It was my fault,” Emma said quickly. “I was the one who kept asking.” 

Malena did not scold her. Just settled for waving a hand towards her. “Come, miss Swan. I’ll take you back to your room. It’s getting late and rehearsals starts tomorrow. You best be well-rested for it.”

“Of course,” Emma said, nearly stumbling as she got off the bed and walked over to Malena. She thought to herself that she had just discovered the most important rule of all: never mention Christine Daaé. 

She smiled apologetically at Ruby and Belle, and both of them returned the smile, so Emma dared hoping that they weren’t mad at her for getting them in trouble. 

Malena said nothing as she escorted Emma the short distance back to her own room. Emma was afraid of saying something. She didn’t want to screw up. She hadn’t even been here for twenty four hours. 

But as they reached the door to Emma’s room, Malena was the one to break the silence: “Christine’s death was terrible,” she said. “A tragic affair that shook everyone.” 

“I understand,” Emma said quickly. 

“But it was an accident, miss Swan,” Malena continued and put a reassuring hand on Emma’s shoulder. “An accident that shouldn’t have been allowed to happen. And the same goes for the chandelier that came apart and fell down. It happened due to a malfunction.”

Emma nodded. 

“Christine somehow found her way into the cellars and got lost,” Malena said quietly. “Miss Lucas isn’t entirely correct. There are holes where the underground lake is deeper, and poor Christine stepped into one of those holes. A terrible accident. But nevertheless that. An accident, miss Swan. Ruby is a good girl, but she has the unfortunate habit of telling stories sometimes. There is no “Phantom of the opera” as she puts it, alright?”

“Of course not,” Emma said quickly and flashed her mentor a smile. “I didn’t think so either.”

To Be Continued???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course there is no Phantom of the opera, Malena *coughs nervously* of course there isn't...
> 
> And FYI, I made Christine blonde and blue eyed to make her more similiar to Leroux-Christine. And to make her resemblance Emma...


	3. Rehearsal

Emma’s eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright even before the alarm on her phone could ring. She had slept terrible. And now she felt guilty because of it. Her first night at the famous Opera Garnier, and she had slept terrible. She should be more grateful than this. She rubbed her tired eyes in an attempt to chase the remains of her dream out of her head. But to no avail. All night she had been dreaming of dead sopranos and monsters lurking in the catacombs somewhere below the opera. She scolded herself as she pushed her hair away from her face. She shouldn’t have become so enthralled with Ruby’s story about the unfortunate Christine Daaé. What had happened in the catacombs had been an accident. Malena had said so, and Emma trusted Malena completely. 

She was still jittery, however. When her alarm rang, she almost jumped and then laughed slightly at her own foolishness. It was just the alarm. Nothing to be afraid of. Even though she was living in Christine’s old room....

No. Emma shook her head firmly. She refused to think more about it. She had to get a move on. She had to shower, get dressed and have breakfast before rehearsal’s started. She was actually in a bit of a hurry. She hopped out of bed, grabbed her robe and shrugged it on. Then she grabbed her clothes and left her room to take that shower, but she didn’t make it very far before she nearly ran into Ruby. 

“Morning, Em,” the brunette greeted and smiled at her. 

“Good morning,” Emma smiled and said that she had been meaning to say since last night: “I’m really sorry if you and Belle got into trouble because of me-“

“Oh no, don’t worry,” Ruby interrupted and patted Emma’s shoulder lightly. “We didn’t. I’m just sorry if I ended up scaring you.”

“You didn’t,” Emma lied. “It’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Alright then. See you at practice.”

“See you.” Emma flashed her another smile and continued her walk down the hallway to get to the bathroom, but before she made it there, Ruby called out to her again: “hey?”

Emma turned around once more. “Yes?”

“It’s your room now,” Ruby said firmly and smiled reassuringly at Emma. “Not Christine’s old room, but your new room. Okay?”

“Okay,” Emma said and returned the smile. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that reassurance, but it still felt nice. And she was glad that Ruby wasn’t mad at her or anything. That would have been   
the worst way possible to start her stay here in Paris. 

Emma got showered and dressed and then went downstairs. She found her way into the large dining hall without getting lost on the way, but she was easily overwhelmed when she looked around. Where was she supposed to sit? Everyone was sitting in groups. She couldn’t just waltz over there and demand to be a part of one of the groups. That would be rude. She tried not to panic and adjusted her glasses slightly. She could already feel her heart thump too loudly in her chest, and she tried to take one of those deep breaths she always used when she got nervous. It didn’t work today. 

“Hey!”

Emma turned around at the sound. There was a girl sitting by one of the little round tables. A girl with dark hair and dark eyes. And she was waving. At Emma. Or was she? Emma had been wrong about these things before. She quickly turned around again to make sure that there wasn’t anyone behind her. There wasn’t. She licked her lips nervously and looked at the girl. “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” the girl grinned. “Come here, I saved you a seat.”

“You... You saved me a seat?” Emma echoed as she walked over to where the girl was sitting. “I’m sorry, but I... I think you’re confusing me with someone else.”

The girl tilted her head. “Aren’t you Emma Swan?”

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. 

“Then I’m not confusing you with someone else,” the girl chuckled. “I’m Lily. Lily Drake.” 

“Oh,” relief flooded Emma. “You’re Malena’s daughter?”

“That’s right. Sit down.”

Emma sat down. “Did, uhm... did your mom ask you to do this?” oh no! she sounded completely rude!

“Nope,” Lily said lightly and flashed Emma a crooked grin. “I just wanted to meet the songbird from Maine.”

“Songbird?” Emma echoed and raised an eyebrow. 

Lily shrugged. “That’s what my mum called you. Do you wanna have breakfast together?” 

“I- yes,” Emma nodded. “Yes, that would be nice.” 

“Great. I’m new in the choir too,” Lily smiled. “We can help each other get settled in.”

Emma returned the smile. Maybe this wasn’t so hard as she had feared. “I’d like that.”

“Awesome. Now let’s go and get that breakfast. We only have 45 minutes.”

Rehearsal was exactly as Emma had imagined it to be. Hard work, but so well worth it. At first, she had been overwhelmed when she stepped up on the little stage along with everyone else. They used a smaller stage for rehearsals, but it was still enough to make Emma feel euphoric. And nervous. 

But as soon as she found her spot in the back row, sandwiched between two taller choir singers and started singing, the usual shift happened. Emma no longer felt socially awkward and out of place. She felt like she belonged here. This was where she was supposed to be. She was here to sing. Was never meant to do anything but sing. And oh, how her voice soared up, up, up! In this room, with a ceiling so high, the sound was completely different, Emma’s voice was completely different. It sounded... stronger, but strangely delicate at the same time. Like a soap bubble on the verge of bursting but not quite. And she loved it! Emma was unsure of many things. How to act, how to walk, how to talk to people, even how to eat in public so quietly no one would notice her, but when she sang... she stopped caring about all those things. They became trivial. Non-existent. The only existing thing was her voice and the way it soared and blended in with the rest of the choir. Yes, this was her place. Where she didn’t fit in with others when they were making small talk with each other, she fitted in with her voice. She didn’t have to try hard or pretend to be someone or something she wasn’t. She could just simply......sing. 

Well, at least she would if wasn’t because of the way the teacher Mme. Carlotta was looking at her when they finished the third piece on the repertoire.

Emma immediately felt insecure again. And bound by that she asked: “did I do something wrong, Mme. Carlotta?”

“No,” Mme. Carlotta said. “That was lovely, Emma. I’ll move you to the front row the next time. We really can’t hide such a lovely voice in the back.”

“But I-“ Emma tried to protest, but was silenced when Lily, who was standing next to her, gave her arm a half-hard squeeze and a warning whispered in her ear: “shut up, standing in the front row is a good thing.”

Emma held her tongue. Maybe she could talk to Mme. Carlotta later and explain to her why she couldn’t possibly be in the front row. 

The rehearsal continued, but Emma wasn’t singing quite as loud or enthusiastic as she had been a moment ago. Mme. Carlotta’s comment had made her nervous. It had made her stand out from the crowd, and now it felt like everyone was looking at her. Of course they weren’t, deep down Emma knew that, but she still couldn’t quite shake the feeling. She kept her head down and sang. Hopefully she could find Mme. Carlotta later and explain that she couldn’t possibly be in the front row where everyone could see her. Mme. Carlotta would have to find someone else. Someone who weren’t as nervous as Emma. That would be better for everyone. 

Being a member of Opera Garnier’s choir was exactly as hard as Emma’s mother had warned her about. For three hours straight, they did nothing but sing. Older members were singing their solo pieces, the entire choir sang either with or without a few instruments accompanying them. Emma was tired, tired, tired. But she was also insanely happy. She was living the dream. Everything she had ever strived to achieve since she was a little girl.

By lunch time, Emma felt as though every single muscle in her body had been replaced with spaghetti. That was how tired she was. And starving. By the time they reached the cantina, Emma was so hungry she could easily have inhaled three or four burgers. The cantina didn’t serve burgers for lunch, though, so she had to “settle” for a sandwich. But that was more than fine too. As hungry as she was, anything would do. She grabbed a sandwich and an apple and then settled down at the nearest empty table. She wasn’t alone for long, though. Lily soon came over with a tray in her hand and asked if she could join Emma for lunch. 

“Sure,” Emma said and smiled. “Sit down.”

“Thanks,” Lily said briskly. She plopped down on the chair and dug into her sandwich. 

Emma took deep gulps of her water. Her throat felt completely dry from hours of teaching. Mme. Carlotta was nice but also strict. She pushed her students right to the edge but never beyond that. Emma could already sense that she would come to appreciate Mme. Carlotta a lot. 

“Why the hell are you hiding?” Lily asked plainly once done chewing on a mouthful of sandwich. 

Emma frowned. “What?”

“When Mme. Carlotta said she’d move you to the front row you flinched,” Lily pointed out. “Why?”

“Oh. Uhm... I’m not good at being at the front row,” Emma said truthfully. 

“How come?” Lily asked plainly and took another bite of her sandwich. 

“I... I get nervous,” Emma said and noted that she was getting nervous right now as well. She was stuttering. “Stage fright.”

“No way,” Lily said sympathetically. “Really?”

“Mhmm,” Emma said and sought solace in another gulp of water. “All the auditions I had to do to get here weren’t easy.” that was to put it lightly. She had been a bundle of nerves at the first audition, and she had actually broken down in tears before going on stage. It had taken ten minutes before she was calm enough to actually go on stage. But then she had also aced it. Well, at least that was what her parents had said, and she must have done something right, because she was here now. 

“I’m sorry,” Lily said. “You’re a good singer, Emma. You really are.”

“So are you,” Emma smiled. “Really good.”

Lily chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I mostly joined it because my mother wanted me to.”

“And mother always knows best, doesn’t she?” 

Emma looked up when she heard Malena’s voice. The tall blonde was standing right by their table. 

Lily rolled her eyes. “Hi, mum.”

“How is everything going here?” Malena asked in that certain “mom-briskness” that would make any teenager cringe. And thus, Lily did. 

“Everything is fine,” Emma assured and flashed Malena a smile. “We just finished rehearsing.” 

“Emma knocked it out of the park,” Lily added. “She might be moved to the front row!”

“I don’t think so,” Emma said hastily. “There are so many from the choir who’s better than me.”

“Believe in yourself, Emma,” Malena lightly chided. “Your voice took you from Maine to Opera Garnier. You have to believe in yourself and your talent.” 

“I know,” Emma said dutifully. She would try. She really would. But it was just so hard! One thing was sure, though: she would never be able to sing solo. She was much happier in the back row, and she   
would explain that to Mme. Carlotta as soon as possible. In fact she would do it right now. She had just spotted the teacher coming into the cantina, so she scarfed down the rest of her sandwich, flushed it down with water and muttered a quick excuse to Malena and Lily. 

She went over to Mme. Carlotta and of course she flushed as she tried to explain the situation to the teacher. That she was only able to sing when she was in the back row and not the center of attention.   
Mme. Carlotta shook her head a little and said with her heavy French accent: “I really am sorry you feel that way, Emma. Your voice is exquise. Hiding you away in the back is almost a crime.”

“I’m sorry, Mme. Carlotta,” Emma said. “But I can’t be in the front row. If I can see the audience...” she shook her head fervently. “I’ll mess it up. I’ll sing the wrong thing. I’ll-“

“Okay, Emma,” Mme. Carlotta interrupted. “I understand. I will not move you from your current position in the choir, but you have to talk to someone about this. We have a very good coach here. I’m sure he could help you with the stage fright. Would you like me to talk to him for you and book you in for an appointment?”

“I’m sure it can’t hurt,” Emma said and put on a smile while she bit her tongue in order to not reveal how many “experts” she had been to see already. Coaches, therapists. She had tried breathing exercises, meditation, even imagining that everyone in the audience was naked (which had been pretty disturbing), but nothing had helped. She couldn’t sing in front of a crowd if she was alone, or the attention was solely on her, and that was final. Emma had accepted it. Accepted her place in the back row of the choir, and she was happy like that. She could still sing. The stage fright wasn’t a “problem” as such. 

Emma thanked Mme. Carlotta and left the cantina. 

She had an hour before she had to get back to work. Not rehearsals, but homework. All the younger students at the Opera Garnier still had to keep up with their schoolwork. Emma had a busy day ahead of her, so she was happy to have this hour to herself. She headed back to her room and found her phone and headphones. She could hear laughter from Belle’s room. She lived in the room right next to Emma, and the walls weren’t that thick. Emma chuckled a little to herself as she plugged the headphones into her phone. It sounded like Ruby and Belle had a right party in there. They would probably have allowed Emma to join her if she asked, but right now, Emma had other things she wanted to do. Rehearse a bit more, for instance. She opened YouTube and found a video of the piece they were currently rehearsing. It was a piece she knew to unconsciousness. Puccini’s Nessun Dorma. One of her favorite pieces, but also the piece she had half-cried herself through when she auditioned the first time. Emma cringed and tried not to think too much of that as she switched the music on. She lied down on her bed and closed her eyes. Yes, singing when lying down was a bit more difficult, but she had spent most of the morning and early afternoon standing up. She could do with a little break. She turned the volume up all the way so the music in her ear almost drowned her own voice, and then she began to sing.

‘Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle che tremano

D'amore e di speranza....’

She took a quick breath. 

‘Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me

Il nome mio nessun saprà

No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò

Quando la luce splenderà

Ed il mio bacio scioglierà

Il silenzio che ti fa mia...’

Emma fell out of the rhythm for a few seconds and paused the music as she took another breath. She was fine. She was in her room, behind a closed door. Falling out of the rhythm was okay. Nothing to panic about. She just had to get a hold of herself and continue. She breathed in through her nose and out through her nose as she started the music again and listened to the instrumental part with her eyes closed. Just follow the rhythm. That was the only thing she had to do. 

’Dilegua, oh notte

Tramontate, stelle

Tramontate, stelle

All'alba vincerò’

Vincerà

She sucked in another breath and felt how her body tensed as she prepared for the last note. Why did she have to tense like this? Why did she have to be so nervous? It was ridiculous. She had rehearsed this piece a million times. Of course she could do it this time too.

‘Vincerò!’ the choir sang in her ear, and Emma sang along with them. And her voice didn’t break. Didn’t fracture. Instead it soared up, and Emma enjoyed the high, the rush it always brought. And when the instrumental part took over, she felt like she was floating. If only she could keep this feeling all the time. This feeling of utter euphoria. Emma began humming along to the instrumental part. She didn’t need a choir in her ear in order to hum. That was different. That was something she could actually do. And do well. After a moment, she hit the replay button and started over:

‘Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle che tremano

D'amore e di speranza’

Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me

Il nome mio nessun saprà

No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò

Quando la luce splenderà

Ed il mio bacio scioglierà

Il silenzio che ti fa mia

’Dilegua, oh notte

Tramontate, stelle

Tramontate, stelle

All'alba vince-

’Brava, brava, bravissima’….

”Huh?” Emma paused the music and ripped the headphones out. What was that? She could have sworn that she just heard a woman’s voice-

A roar of laughter erupted from Belle’s room, and Emma chuckled slightly. Thin walls. They were clearly having fun. That must have been what she just heard through her headphones. Belle and Ruby having fun with making echo-y voices through the thin walls. She would have to “get back at them” at some point...

To Be Continued???


	4. Wandering Child

Emma’s first week at the Opera Garnier could be described in one word: busy.

Rehearsal from early morning to early afternoon and then homework until evening. Emma never had so many things to do before, but she absolutely loved it. She loved waking up to a new day of singing. 

A new day with the choir. Emma had made friends here. However impossible that sounded. She hadn’t been good at making friends and fitting in at her old school, but it was different here. She and Lily were hitting it off, and Emma had already been invited into Ruby’s room three times. She and Ruby and Belle had talked and laughed, and Emma hadn’t felt awkward. Ruby and Belle were nice. They made her feel comfortable. Made her feel at home. And Mme. Carlotta had kept her word and had not moved Emma from the back row. Emma was beyond relieved, and she felt as though her voice was better than ever. Yes, she had promised Mme. Carlotta to talk to the coach about her stage fright, but Emma doubted that he would be able to do anything about it. No one ever had. But that was fine. It wasn’t a problem. Emma wasn’t meant to sing solos or anything, no, she was meant to be a part of a unity and sing in a choir. Others could sing solo. Like....Lily. Yes. Lily had a lovely voice. Malena had been watching some of the rehearsals, and her eyes had sparkled with pride every time Lily sang. Emma could more than understand why. Lily’s voice was deep yet clear, and Emma had no doubt that she would be moved to the front row and even sing solo in no time. She was so talented. Emma wasn’t jealous. She was just happy for her new friend. But she was also a bit homesick. During the day, she was too busy to notice, but at night, when all was quiet, Emma thought about her parents back home in Maine. Of course, they had their work to keep them busy, but still... Emma was an only child, a “daddy’s girl” and the apple of her mother’s eye. And she missed her parents. She had called home once during the week she had been here, but she had been advised not to call home too often. That would only make her home sickness worse, Malena said, and she was probably right about that. Emma had decided to be hard on herself. She was only gonna call home once a week. Unless something was wrong, of course. That was the only exception. She couldn’t let homesickness get the best of her while she was here. She was in Paris. Opera Garnier. Her dream. She was supposed to have the time of her life. Not mope around and miss her parents. She was gonna make an effort. Get out of her shell or whatever it was called. Emma was hoping that singing here at Opera Garnier could somehow help with her social awkwardness. Here she was among her own kind. That should make things a little easier. She had already started to speak up more freely when Mme. Carlotta was asking the choir questions. She was off to a good start. 

The weekend really was the only time where the choir had some time off. Of course they still had to be on top with their homework, but apart from that, they were free to do what they wanted. And Emma had made plans for this Saturday night. She was gonna call her parents, have some tea with honey to soothe her throat. Not that there was anything wrong with her throat, she just wanted to make sure to keep any hoarseness out of her voice. Once she had had her tea, she would climb to bed with a book. Emma was quite the bookworm, but she hadn’t had any time to read since she had arrived in Paris. 

She was looking forward to spending her night with a cup of tea and a good book. She was currently reading “The Moving Finger” by Agatha Christie. Emma had always loved a good mystery novel. Which was sort of ironic when thinking about how shy and careful she was in real life. But books were different. Books were safe. Emma’s second passion. There were singing, and then there was books. Both things so important to Emma. 

Ruby and Belle had tried to coax Emma to come out with them tonight, and so had Lily. She had used too arguments such as “this is Paris for Christ sakes, you have to see the city!” but Emma hadn’t been convinced. Going out meant crowds and most likely loud music in some bar. Emma wasn’t old enough to drink, but she was allowed in bars. And bars meant loud music and chitchatting making it impossible to hear yourself think. Everything Emma hated. So she had said no. And she hadn’t even come up with an excuse. No, she had been completely truthful when telling Lily that she felt too tired to go out. Everything was too new. Emma’s mind was packed with new impressions, and she needed this night to unwind and relax. She was gonna be in Paris for a long time. There would be plenty of opportunity to see Paris. 

Lily had accepted that, and Emma had wished her a fun night out. And reminded her of the curfew. Lily had laughed and sweetly told Emma that she reminded her of her mother, and Emma had laughed with her because Malena was a pretty “cool” woman, and she had absolutely nothing against being compared to her. Malena was so put together all the time. Emma hoped she could learn a thing or two from the older blonde. Who knows, maybe she could even learn to be as put together as she was. 

Emma chuckled. She doubted that was something she could ever learn. Being that put together was probably something you were born with. It couldn’t be achieved that easily.

Emma had always appreciated Saturdays. And especially grey ones like this one. Saturdays were meant for relaxing and reading in bed. Emma was looking forward to the cozy night she had carved out for herself. She was halfway through her book, and she couldn’t wait to read the rest in the safe confines of her bed later tonight when the wind was howling, and the sky was dark. The weather really set the mood for murder mystery she was reading about. 

“Okay. Of course. No, dad, I’m staying in tonight,” Emma laughed and wedged the cellphone between her ear and shoulder as she walked around in her room. 

Her dad laughed. “Another night with a book?”

“You know me too well,” Emma chuckled. “How’s mom?”

“She’s fine. She’s at a parent-teacher-conference-tonight, so it’s just me.”

“Oh.” Emma’s mouth twisted a bit. “Do you feel very lonely?”

“No, no, no, no, of course not,” her father said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t worry, princess, I’m doing perfectly well. And so’s your mom. Now tell me... How is Paris? Are you making friends?”

Emma laughed. Her dear old dad. Always asking the same questions. “Paris is great, dad. And I’m still hanging out with Lily. She’s really nice. And so’s Belle and Ruby.”

“I’m very happy to hear that,” her dad said. “So you feel at home?”

“I do. But my room smells,” Emma said spontaneously. That was true. Her room did have this strange, spicy scent. Emma wasn’t sure why and how, but on the third morning after her arrival at the Opera   
Garnier, she had suddenly woken up to a strong, spicy smell. Almost a bit oriental. Emma hadn’t been able to figure out where it came from. She never wore spicy perfume. She preferred more light and flowery scents. But the smell wasn’t an unpleasant one per se. It was actually quite pleasant, really, so she wasn’t enormously occupied with thinking about it. She figured that maybe Ruby or Belle wore spicy perfume. 

Her dad laughed in the other end. “Well, if that’s your biggest concern, I’m not worried about you, sweetheart. Have you talked to that coach about your stage fright yet?”

Emma quelled a little sigh. “No, dad. Not yet. That’s next week.”

“Oh, okay. And you’re okay with it?”

Emma shrugged even though her father hardly was capable of seeing it. “Yes, I guess so. But I don’t think it’s gonna work.”

“Emma,” her dad gently chided. “You can’t think like that. Maybe this coach has some new methods you can use.”

Emma forced herself to be optimistic. “Yes, maybe.”

“That’s my girl!”

Emma laughed. “I miss you and mom.”

“We miss you too, princess. And we can’t wait to come and visit you in Paris! I think your mom wants to go shopping when she sees you.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Emma chuckled. Lord knows she hated shopping and needed a lot of time to mentally prepare herself for it. And a shopping trip with her mom was always interesting. She loved   
to shop. For hours. Emma couldn’t count the times she had lost her mind when shopping with her mom. 

David laughed again. “You better not cancel on her this time.”

“I’d never dream of it,” Emma assured, even though she was prone to cancelling shopping trips and had done it a few times already. 

“Emma...” David warned with another chuckle. 

“I won’t,” Emma promised. “I mean it.” 

“Good. And how is rehearsal going? Is it still hard?”

“The hardest I’ve ever worked in my life, but I love it!” Emma said passionately. “Do I sound hoarse?” 

“No, not at all. But you’re taking care of yourself, right? You’re not straining your voice, aren’t you?” 

“No, of course not. I’m actually just about to have a cup of tea. And then to bed.”

Her dad was quiet for a moment and then asked: “you didn’t want to go out with your friends?”

“No, but it’s fine, dad,” Emma said quickly, rushing to assure her father. “I chose to stay home.”

“Princess, you have to remember-“

“To go with them once in a while,” Emma finished the sentence. “Yeah, I know.”

“I just don’t want you to get lonely, sweetheart.”

“I know,” Emma said, voice softer now. “And I won’t. I’ll be fine, dad. I am fine.”

“I know you are. I’m just being silly because you’re so far away.”

Emma chuckled softly. “I’m not that far away. Just a phone call. And you and mom will come and visit me soon. I can’t wait to show you around here!”

“And we can’t wait to hear you sing, sweetheart.”

Emma muttered something that was only partially coherent. There was that twinge of anxiety again. She almost scoffed as she reminded herself that it was only her parents. Of course she could sing for   
her parents. She had done so a million times already. 

“Emma? Emma, are you there?”

“Yes, of course. I’m here,” Emma said quickly. “But it’s getting late, so I think I better get that cup of tea before the cantina closes.”

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you next week.”

“Of course. Say hi to mom?”

“I will. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, dad.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Emma put the phone down and smiled. Her parents were doing just fine back home.

Then she ventured out to find that cup of tea. Well, no. First, she shrugged a white robe over her pajamas, and THEN she ventured out to find that cup of tea. She left the dormitory and headed down the stairs. There were so many stairs, and Emma had gotten lost a number of times already. There had been one time where she had been late to practice because of it, and she had been terribly embarrassed because of it, but she had been with Lily, so it hadn’t been so bad. And Mme. Carlotta was nice. Not the type who got angry at her students. 

Emma went down another staircase and down the hallway. She would reach another staircase in a moment. There were exactly six flights of stairs she had to pass before getting to the cantina. She had carefully memorized that a few days ago, and she tried her best not to forget it. She had to learn to find her way around here. Lily couldn’t be here all the time. Finding way on her own was essential. Emma snickered quietly to herself battled another staircase. Lily had joked about how she needed a map to find her way around here, and she hadn’t been wrong, really. This was a big place. A very big place. Getting lost was easy. 

When Emma turned left, she nearly ran into Malena and had to take a step back. “Oh!”

“Evening, Emma,” Malena said amused. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“The cantina. I wanted to get some tea before bedtime.”

“Sensible. Is Lily with you?”

“Lily? No, she... she went out.” 

“Did she now?” Malena narrowed eyes and sighed. “That girl...”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. “I thought she had permission to go out.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault, dear,” Malena said with a slight chuckle. “Yes, I would have preferred if she stayed in tonight, but a simple order has never stopped my Lily.”

Emma chuckled. She couldn’t help it. Malena sounded almost proud as she said it. 

“I might have to talk to her about it later, though,” Malena continued with a headshake and smiled at Emma. “If she was a bit more like you, things would be easier.”

“My parents keeps nagging me because they want me to go out more,” Emma told her and grinned a little.

Malena clicked her tongue. “Well, then perhaps you and Lily can influence each other a little bit.”

“Maybe,” Emma grinned.

“Anyway, you better go and get that tea before the cantina closes,” Malena said and glanced at her watch. “Have a good night, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Malena,” Emma smiled and stepped aside so the older blonde could pass her. 

Emma continued her quest to find a cup of tea. Down the stairs, through narrow hallways and then climbing more stairs. Man, this was quite the mission. Oh well, at least she was getting exercise. That   
was something. But she was still starting to get second thoughts about this...quest. It was a chilly night and Emma was only wearing her nightgown under her bathrobe. She was beginning to regret her plan about getting a cup of tea. She should have stayed in her room where it was warm and cozy. She wasn’t in any mood to run around in the hallways. She would much rather be curled up in her bed   
with her book. 

She stopped abruptly when she reached a door. Emma frowned. That door wasn’t a part of the route to the cantina, she knew that. It had the wrong color. After the six flights of stairs, she was supposed to reach a blue door. Not a red one. She must have gone down one staircase too many. Or maybe she had turned left instead of right in the hallway. Emma sighed. She was lost in any case. Running into Malena must have distracted her. She pursed her lips and did something she very rarely did. Cursed softly under her breath. If only she could remember whether she had made the wrong turn in the hallway or taken one staircase too many. Should she turn around and walk back? Or should she try her luck with this door? She ended up deciding on the second option. She resolutely opened the door and went inside. Another staircase. Oh. Maybe she hadn’t made the wrong turn after all. Maybe she was on the right path. She briskly walked down the stairs. She had to be almost there, right? She chose to believe so. The cantina was probably close by. And then she could finally get that cup of tea and go back to bed with her book like she had planned. She was looking forward to that. 

Emma more or less stumbled through the next hallway, and after a second, she reached the next door. She frowned again. Nope, this couldn’t be right. 

“Damnit!” she said to no one in particular. Maybe Lily was right. Maybe she DID need a map. This was ridiculous. She had lived here for a week, and she still couldn’t make out the way to the cantina on her own. What was she, stupid or something? She seriously had to get better at finding her way around this place. It was her home now.

Emma looked back and sighed. Did she really want to go all the way back in an attempt to retrace her steps? Maybe there was a shortcut right behind this door. A quicker way to get to that damned cantina. It was definitely worth a shot, right? She was getting stubborn now. She hadn’t come all this way just to turn around. And she still hadn’t had her tea. One could debate how important that cup of tea really was, but she was getting annoyed and steely determined to have that cup of tea no matter what. She refused to leave empty handed. She didn’t want to feel like an even bigger fool than she already did. 

Emma ripped the door open and more or less stumbled inside. And the moment she did, she knew that nope, this was most definitely not a shortcut to the cantina. Because this was the stage. The big stage. The one she had seen during the tour here. The one she was supposed to sing at along with the rest of the choir. Emma looked around in the impressive room. It turned out that the door she had bursted through, was in fact the stage door. She was standing right on the stage and had to tilt her head back slightly in order to see everything. God, this room was fantastic! Emma took a few steps and enjoyed the way her footsteps echoed. She could hear herself in here. 

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she hummed to herself as she looked around. Everything was red and golden in here. Red velvet seats and golden ornaments. Being in here almost took Emma’s breath away. Her heart pounded in her chest. Imagine to sing in here. From her safe place in the back row, obviously, but still... she looked at the many, many empty velvet seats. This room full of people. Her parents being here to hear her sing. She sighed longingly. This was even better than a cup of tea. She began to walk around on the stage and a chill ran down her spine at the almost ghostly way her footsteps echoed in the big, empty room. Was she even supposed to be here? She wasn’t so sure about that, but she was supposed to dream for a moment, wasn’t she?

Emma closed her eyes and began to hum softly to herself once more. Her voice echoed too. Soared up towards the ceiling like a lone soap bubble. Her voice sounded good in here. Even more fragile than usual. Emma had forgotten entirely about her cup of tea now. Singing on this empty stage was so much more interesting. 

“O mio babbino caro, mi piace, è bello, bello, vo' andare in Porta Rossa. A comperar l'anello!” she sang. Now there was a song she knew like the back of her hand. She couldn’t count how many times she had rehearsed that one at home in front of the mirror. She stopped singing and sighed a bit again as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Inhaled deeply as though she was trying to breathe in the atmosphere of this amazing room. Did velvet have a smell? If it did, Emma was sure she could smell just that right now. And she could almost hear the applauds from audiences coming and going throughout the years. The memories of old performances echoed in this room. She probably wasn’t supposed to be here. No one had told her so directly, but she had that famous gut feeling. That prickling sensation that she was breaking unwritten rules.

She should be on her way back to her dormetry. She could have tea tomorrow. Emma opened her eyes and after having inhaled deeply one more time, she slowly turned around. Her footsteps echoed all the way back to the stage door. She put a hand on the doorknob, hesitated for a moment. She didn’t really want to leave. For some weird reason, it felt like the room belonged to her. At least right now. 

She was the one who had “found” it at this late hour. And she wanted nothing more than to stay and soak up the atmosphere a little longer. But she also didn’t want to get in trouble or anything. She had to leave. 

She pressed the doorknob down and was just about to push the door open when she heard something that made her ears perk up. First, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but she still turned her head and looked around at the stage. What WAS that? She was sure she’d heard SOMETHING. She just couldn’t say what exactly. It had sounded like... rustling. Yeah, rustling. That’s the word she was looking for. There had been this slight rustling sound coming from somewhere between the velvet seats. But where, exactly? Emma went a few steps away from the door and took a good look around. She had grown curious. What in the world was that rustling sound? For a second she imagined a lost bird being stuck in here and chuckled slightly to herself. The sound of her laughter echoed between the walls. 

But then she heard something else. A new sound. Footsteps? No, that couldn’t be. Emma tilted her head and strained her ears. Yes, that was footsteps alright. Soft footsteps on the velvet floor. Not echo-y like her own, but soft and subtle. Barely audibly and yet very much there!

“Hello?” Emma called into the empty room. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No one answered. Instead she heard more footsteps. If she didn’t know any better, she would say that someone was walking around between the seats. No, walking wasn’t the right word to use. More like... strolling. Yes. Strolling around in an unhurried pace and stopping at... box five? Emma frowned as she walked to the middle of the stage. What the hell was the meaning of this? Was someone teasing her? If so, it wasn’t funny.

“Hello?” she called again. “Who’s there?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No more rustling. No more footsteps. Emma could only hear her own breath which seemed to have sped up. She shivered slightly and felt how the skin in the back of her neck seemed to retract and prickle. Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t alone anymore. But that was impossible. She couldn’t see anyone.

“Hello?” she called again, though with less certainty this time around. “H-hello, is someone there? This isn’t funny!” 

Nothing. Silence. Emma could feel the goosebumps erupt on her skin. Someone was clearly playing a game with her, and she knew one thing for sure: she didn’t want to be a part of it. She turned around and walked back towards the stage door. 

“Hullo!”

Emma yelped and nearly jumped as she whirled around on the spot. A man was standing in box seven and looking at her, and Emma felt a rush of relief when she recognized Maurice the so-called “handyman” who often helped out with odd jobs here and there. 

“Miss Swan,” he said and sounded just as surprised as she felt. “What are you doing here so late? You should be in your dormetry.” 

“I was just looking for the cantina,” Emma said half-heartedly. “Have you... Have you been there all the time?”

“More or less,” Maurice said. “Got in through the door up here-“ he knocked twice on said door. “There’s a chair that needs fixing.” 

“Oh,” Emma said. She felt tempted to ask if he’d been in box five, but she didn’t. She couldn’t explain why. Maybe she was afraid of sounding ridiculous. Maybe she was ridiculous. Maurice had been here all the time. He was the one who had walked around between the chairs. 

“Maybe it’s time you went back to your dormetry?” Maurice suggested, and Emma had never agreed more. It was high time she went back to her dormetry. But first she cast one last look at box five. 

Nothing. And she couldn’t hear any footsteps any longer either. Just the sound of Maurice whistling while he fixed the chair. Emma bid him a goodnight and left the stage room as fast as she could without running. After all, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Tea long forgotten, she went straight back to bed and curled up under the covers. There had been someone there with her in the stage room, she was sure of that, and she tried to convince herself that it had been A: Maurice, too busy with fixing the chair to notice her until she left. Or B: someone playing a little joke on her. A little, harmless joke. 

But harmless or not, Emma preferred to think that it had been option A. Maybe Maurice had been wearing headphones and had only heard her when she started calling out. After all, he hadn’t been that easy to spot, the way he had been crouched down next to the chair. She surely couldn’t have seen him from the stage. 

But that rustling sound... What was that? Emma knew of no tool that made a rustling sound like the one she had heard.

It took a while before she fell asleep that night....

To Be Continued????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's there, the Phantom of the Opera... Beware, the Phantom of the Opera...


	5. Box Five

That following Monday was special. Malena, who also functioned as their singing teacher from time to time had a surprise for them. Today they would be rehearsing in the stage room instead of the smaller rehearsing room they normally would be in. An excited mutter erupted when they were told, and Emma silently confirmed what she already knew. She hadn’t been supposed to be in the stage room that evening. Fortunately enough, she hadn’t told anyone about it. And she had done her utmost to forget about the strange rustling sound she’d heard. And when failing utterly at doing so, she had convinced herself that it had just been Maurice, working on that chair. And somehow, he had made that rustling sound. 

Did Emma believe that? 

No, not entirely. But she was determined to not let it bother her. Was determined to pretend that it had never happened. She could do that. And honestly, if it wasn’t Maurice who had made that rustling sound, it probably was something else. A pipe crackling or something like that. This place was very old. Of course there was bound to be strange sounds here and there. 

Emma did her best to settle with that. And look forward to today’s singing lesson. Which would take place on “the” stage. Not in the little rehearsal room, but on the enormous, impressive stage. Malena said that they needed to get used to the room. The acoustic. Soon they would be giving their first performance in there. Emma’s stomach was bubbling just at the thought. She was excited and nervous. 

Could she handle singing in such a big room? True, she would be in the back row, tugged away behind other members of the choir, but still, the stage at the Opera Garnier was undoubtedly the biggest.   
The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It wouldn’t get any better than this, and Emma was terrified at screwing up. Messing up the lyrics. Accidentally tripping and knocking the rest of the choir over. The famous domino effect. Emma had had nightmares about that so many times. And she always woke up bathed in sweat afterwards. It was horrible. Truly horrible. But maybe her brand-new coach could help her with that. Or maybe he couldn’t. Emma was actually doubting it. She was always skeptical, but she felt like she had good reason. She had been seeing many, many coaches and therapists, but no one had been able to help her. She was still unable to be front figure and sing solo. Why should this particular coach be any different? Emma couldn’t help but think like that even though she knew that she wasn’t supposed to. She was supposed to be optimistic and hope for the best. This was the Opera Garnier. The coaches here were the very best. Who knows, maybe Archibald, her new coach had the advise or tool that would change her life completely. And if not... Well, Emma never had anything against the back row. Quite the reverse.

“Keep up, miss Swan,” Malena briskly called over her shoulder. 

Emma snapped out of it. She had been zoning out. Right on the staircase. In fact several members of the choirs were pushing to get past her. Oops. 

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly as she quickly got a move on and followed the rest of the choirs. 

Lily snickered as Emma caught up with her. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” Emma said quickly. “I was just-“

“Getting lost in your own head,” Lily teased. “You okay? You’re not nervous because of the big stage, are you?” 

“No, I’m okay,” Emma said and bit her tongue not to reveal that she had been there before. But in hindsight, so had Lily probably. With her mom working here, Emma found it more unlikely that Lily hadn’t been there before. 

“It’s not that intimidating,” Lily said and gave Emma’s arm a comforting squeeze. 

“I’m sure it’s not,” Emma smiled. So Lily had been there before. Of course she had. 

“But getting there is hell on earth,” Lily continued with a grin. “There’s like, a billion of stairs!” 

“Really?” Emma said innocently and did her best to play along and pretend that she had never been on the big stage before. 

“Yeah,” Lily laughed. “One trip to the big stage, and you’ll get all the exercise you need for the rest of the week.” She gave Emma’s arm another squeeze, and it was impossible for Emma not to notice that she had done that a lot. Lily seemed to go to great lengths to touch her. A slight pat on her hand. The lightest brush of their arms. Perhaps Emma was socially awkward and slightly naïve, but she wasn’t blind either. She knew exactly what was going on. Lily was developing a crush on her. But Emma was determined to pretend she didn’t know. She hated confrontations, and she definitely wasn’t comfortable with the whole “touchy-feely”-thing. Emma had never been in love. There had been a few girls who had made her heart beat faster from time to time, but she had never had that big moment where the air left her lungs and her heart felt like it was going to pop right out of her chest. Sometimes it worried her, because it seemed as though people at her age did nothing but falling in love. 

Sometimes Emma wondered if there was something wrong with her, but she always did her best to calm herself. She was only seventeen. She had plenty of time to meet someone and fall in love. She just had to stop thinking about singing and look up for a moment. She would meet someone. Of course she would. She was just focused on her singing right now. Emma glanced discreetly at Lily and wondered why she wasn’t feeling anything for her. Lily was nice and funny and all that. It would only be natural if Emma developed a little crush on her. But nothing had happened. So far. Maybe it would if Emma gave it more time. 

“Here we are,” Malena announced as she opened the stage door with a grand gesture. “Welcome to the stage. Otherwise known as the Big Scene.” 

Everyone muttered excitedly under their breath and even though Emma had been there once, she was still blown away by this amazing room and slightly tilting stage. “This is where our big concerts with orchestra and soloists takes place,” Malena told them. “There are seats for 1,900 people in here, and the crystal chandelier is one of the heaviest-“

“Then how come it could fall down three years ago?” one of the male member of the choir asked. Emma hadn’t seen much of the males in the choir because of the separate dormitories, but everyone was here for the tour of the stage. Including a couple of the older students. Emma had already talked a bit with Ruby and Belle on the way here.

Malena’s mouth became a thin line. “As mentioned before, Mr. Jones, that was an accident. An accident where no one got hurt, might I add. And rest assure that it’ll never happen again. The system has been updated since.”

Emma swallowed something and wasn’t entirely sure why. 

“As I said, there are seats for 1,900 people in here,” Malena continued. “And every seat will be occupied when you give your first concert. Your parents will be at the front seats for the occasion.”

Emma’s stomach twisted nervously at the thought. 

“Now, let’s go for a little walk on the stage and get used to it,” Malena said briskly and waved a hand to make everyone move. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Lily said lowly through her mom’s explanation of why the stage floor was tilting. 

“Yeah,” Emma nodded and looked around at all the gold and velvet. “It’s beautiful in here.” 

“You’ll get used to it,” Lily grinned. 

“I don’t think so,” Emma politely protested. 

“You won’t get used to it, Em,” Ruby said lightly as she caught up with her. “No one will. I still swoon every time I come in here.”

Emma laughed. “This place is wonderful.”

“It is,” Ruby smiled. “And the acoustic in here is just...” she shook her head lightly to indicate there was no words for it. “I still remember the first time I sang in here.” 

Emma nodded, still smiling. She could remember the first time she sang in here as well, but that wasn’t something Ruby needed to know. 

Lily snickered again. “I’ve been in here a bunch of times, and I don’t think-“

“Lilith. Less talking more listening, please. Thank you,” Mal interrupted and shot her daughter a rare stern look. 

“Yes, Mme. Drake,” Lily said with feigned politeness.

Mal ignored it and continued her lesson: “the development of the Opera Garnier began in 1860 as a part of civic planner Baron Haussemann’s plan to transform Paris. It took almost fifteen years before the opera was officially inaugurated on the 5th of January 1875. When it opened, the Opera Garnier was the biggest opera house in the world. Unfortunately, others has taken the top spot as today, but still, imagine to step inside the biggest opera in the world for the first time.”

Emma’s belly fluttered with excitement. Oh, how she would have loved that! She could almost feel the excitement from past audiences who once sat foot here. This place was so full of history it almost took her breath away. 

“Here you see the orchestra section,” Mal continued and lifted a hand to point. “Closets from the stage and with the best view. Most of the premium seats are located there.”

“Can’t be cheap,” Killian Jones commented, and Emma rolled her eyes a bit. 

“No, Mr. Jones. I can assure you, it’s not,” Malena said smoothly and continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted: “behind the orchestra section you see the first elevated level of the opera house.   
Better known as the balcony section. The balcony section also houses some of the very best seats in the house. The entire section is marked for premium seats. Except for the corner seats and the seats by the pillars.”

Most of the members of the choir shifted and looked as though they were bored, but Emma wasn’t. She found it interesting and was taking it all in. She wanted to know everything there was to know about the place she had dreamed of since she was a little girl. The place that was her home now. 

“....And then of course we have our boxes,” Malena continued and lifted her pointing finger a bit higher. “Now, most of the seats in the opera are located in the boxes. There are two types of box seats available at the opera house; loges de face which face the stage, and loges de cote. Views offered from box seats variates a lot, but our box seats are still enormously popular, and fully booked. Now-“ she clapped her hands together like an excited kindergarten teacher. “Shall we try singing for a bit?”

“Yes, Mal,” everyone said with variating excitement. Emma had a feeling that she was the most excited of them all, but she didn’t care. She felt like she was bubbling. High on music. Plain and simple. That was what she always said, and it never failed to make her dad laugh. Emma almost laughed herself when thinking about it. If her parents could see her right now as she stood on this stage.... 

“Excellent. Line up. Nessum Dorma. From the beginning, if you please,” Mal instructed and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts

Emma conveniently wedged herself between Lily and Mulan, another first year. That placement was perfect because Ruby and Belle were standing in front and nearly towered over them. Emma even ducked a little, and she could feel Lily’s eyes on her. She knew that Lily found her stage fright to be silly. Maybe even exaggerated. But to Emma it was very real. She was happy that she could “hide away” behind Ruby and Belle.

“From the beginning, then,” Malena repeated. “I’m sure we can manage without an orchestra. For now. On my cue. One, two-“

But before they could start singing, they were interrupted by a pointing finger. And this time the finger didn’t belong to Mal. 

“Yes, miss Frost?” Mal said, giving a mildly annoyed look at the girl who had just interrupted her. A young girl at Emma’s age with her red hair arranged in braided pigtails.

“I’m sorry, but you said that all the box seats always are fully booked?”

“Yes, that’d be correct,” Mal confirmed with a nod. ”Now-“

“Even box five?”

Mal was definitely annoyed now as she looked at the girl. “I beg your pardon, miss Frost?”

The redhead blushed. “S-sorry, I’ve just heard that-“

“Box five always should be kept empty!” Killian said before she could finish the sentence. 

Mal’s nostrils flared. “That’s enough, Mr. Jones.”

“Huh?” Emma muttered quietly. She was a hundred percent confused about what was going on. 

And Ruby noticed. She discreetly turned her head and whispered to Emma: “that was something Christine used to say. That box five always should be kept empty.”

Emma wanted to ask ‘why’, but she couldn’t get the word out. Instead a chill crept down her spine. Box five. That was... Those footsteps... That was where those footsteps she’d heard had ended. In box five. She turned her head and looked back at box five. And so did several other members of the choir.

“The Phantom will get angry if box five isn’t empty!” Killian loudly proclaimed, clearly satisfied with having everyone’s attention. 

The entire choir shifted and muttered and glanced nervously at one another. 

“Quiet,” Mal said, and now her voice was frosty.

Everyone went quiet immediately. 

“Perhaps it’s a good thing that the entire choir is here, because I’m only gonna say this once,” she continued, still frostily. “I am well aware that there are several stories about how and why Christine Daaé died, as am I aware of the ghost story circulating here but let me tell you one thing: Christine Daaé’s death was an accident. Her father’s death left her as a young and vulnerable girl, and sometimes grief changes people-“

“Christine wasn’t crazy!” Ruby spoke up and had the nerve to glare a bit at her teacher. 

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, miss Lucas,” Mal said patiently. “But what I am saying, however, is that after arriving here, Christine developed the habit of wandering around in the corridors late at night. And one night she got lost in the underground tunnels and tragically drowned.” She looked at all of them. “No one is more upset about this than me. Christine was like a daughter to me, and as her teacher and mentor, I failed her that night. She should never have been down there to begin with, and it’s the teachers responsibility to make sure such a thing doesn’t occur. We failed her, and I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am about that. But that doesn’t help anything. I cannot apologize to Christine. But I can guarantee you that it will never happen again. Every possible way down to the underground tunnels has been blocked. Mr. Gold himself made sure of that after the tragedy. And as for ‘the Phantom of the Opera’....” she looked around at all of them. “I’m well aware that it’s a ghastly tale and perhaps even a fascinating story to some of you, but I’m telling you right now...there is NO phantom of the opera. It’s a story. Created by whom, I do not know. Perhaps by Christine as a way to cope after her father’s death-“

Ruby growled quietly. 

“-Or perhaps it already existed when she arrived, but either way, there’s not an ounce of truth in the story. The underground tunnels were searched after Christine’s death, and there’s nothing whatsoever indicating that someone potentially should have been living down there. And we have certainly never found a person in the tunnels either. No human, no ghost, no ‘Phantom’. Am I making myself clear?”

Everyone nodded now. 

“So whatever some of you think you may or may not have heard about it, I can guarantee you that it is untrue. All of it. There is no Phantom of the Opera, and there never has been. Alright?” her gaze rested on Killian Jones. “I will not have anyone going around and spreading rumors or scaring our younger members of the choir. If this ‘Phantom’ had existed, rest assure we would have found it.”

No one dared arguing against that. 

“Now then...” Mal said lightly. “Let’s forget about the ghost stories and do what we came here to do. Rehearse. Nessum Dorma. From the beginning. Follow my cue. One, two, three...”

Everyone began to sing. Except for Emma. She couldn’t stop thinking about box five. ‘Box five should always be kept empty’. Box five where Emma had heard strange footsteps retreating to. Another shiver ran down her spine. Someone... Someone must have been messing with her. Yes. One of the older members of the choir must have been in the stage room with her and decided to mess with her because she wasn’t supposed to be there. Teach her a lesson or something like that. Yeah. That had to be it. Right. RIGHT?

Emma turned her head and glanced back at box five. What was she even expecting to see? Of course there was nothing there. Nothing and no one. 

Lily gently elbowed her in the ribs. “What are you staring after?” she whispered quietly. “We’re supposed to sing.”

“I know,” Emma whispered back and immediately let her voice blend in with the others. Her mouth took over the singing while her thoughts were all over the place. Why did box five had to be kept empty? 

Why had Christine said that? What would happen if box five wasn’t kept empty? And what WAS that rustling sound Emma had heard when she was here the last time? The questions were piling up in Emma’s head, and she had to stop singing for a moment and take a deep breath to calm herself. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. One-two-three, one-two-three, just like one of her coaches had taught her. 

Her pulse slowed down some and after another moment, she was ready to sing again. But she was still afraid, though. Afraid of ‘the Phantom of the opera’, and she knew she had to confront that fear. Fortunately enough, she knew exactly how...

**************************

“....And I think that’s enough for today!” Mal interrupted and smiled at them. “You did very well, everyone.”

Emma smiled at the praise. Her voice was a bit hoarse, but it had been every bit worth it. Nessum Dorma sounded absolutely fantastic within these walls. 

“This is what you’ll experience every single time you sing in here,” Mal promised with a chuckle and shot a teasing look at her daughter. “Not something you’ll forget about right away.”

Lily rolled her eyes at her mom.

“Alright everyone. I do believe it’s lunch time. Chop-chop,” Mal said briskly. “Lunch and homework afterwards.”

Everyone groaned. Everyone preferred to sing instead of doing boring schoolwork. Mal chuckled as she ushered all of them out of the stage room with another of her brisk “chop-chop!”

Emma followed her “choir-mates” out of the stage room and down one of the many hallways that lead back to the cantina (the right way found at last!) but she hadn’t forgotten about her secret plan, so when they were halfway there, and Mal was out of earshot, she said: “oh! I forgot my bag!” that wasn’t a lie. She had in fact forgotten the bag. But she had forgotten it on purpose. 

Both Lily and Ruby stopped with her. “Do you want me to go with you?” Ruby offered.

“Or I could go and grab it really quickly?” Lily added and smiled at her. “Save you the trip back...”

Emma chuckled. “No, it’s fine. I can get it myself.”

“Do you know your way back?” Ruby asked a bit doubtfully. 

“I think so?”

“We’ll wait for you,” Lily decided. “Right, Ruby?”

Ruby nodded, but Emma protested: “no, you don’t have to. I can find my way back. Just save me a seat?”

“Of course!” Lily said immediately and flashed her a beaming smile, and as she smiled back, Emma thought to herself that maybe it would be better if she nipped this in the bud. Let Lily know that she wasn’t looking for anything beyond friendship, but in a polite way. 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Emma assured as she turned around and walked back down the hallway. Was she breaking the rules again? Maybe. A little bit. But she had to do this. She would just have to trust that no one would find out about the real reason why she had left her bag behind. Her ulterior motive. Emma chuckled a bit to herself and her footsteps echoed in the now empty hallway. 

Soon she was standing in front of the “forbidden” stage door yet again. Emma squared her shoulders and pushed the door open. 

Nothing. Quiet. Of course. She hadn’t expected anything else. She really, really hadn’t. And there was her bag. Exactly where she had left it on purpose in the corner so it wouldn’t be too obvious for Mal or anyone else. 

Emma looked around in the enormous room. Took a few steps. “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she hummed to herself and chuckled slightly upon realizing that she was in fact humming Snow White’s “Someday   
My Prince Will Come”. Yes, why not. The first song she had ever sung along to. 

“Someday my prince will come...” she goofily sang to herself and enjoyed the way her voice echoed through the room. “Someday we’ll meet again, and away to his castle we’ll go...” she shook her head and muttered: “to be happy, forever I know.” That was silly. Not what she came here to do. It was so easy to get carried away when she was standing in this wonderful room. She took a few steps on the tilting stage. The sound echoed again, but somehow the room seemed less “scary” now that she had been there with all of her choir mates. Less scary. That was good. But there was still one more thing Emma needed to do. One very important thing. Just to make sure. Just so she could tell herself that she was just silly and that her mind was playing tricks on her. Again.

Emma tilted her head back and looked at the stairs. She didn’t have that much time. Better get it over with once and for all. Better do what she had been too much of a chicken to do the last time she had been here. Her footsteps echoed as she half-jogged over to the stairs and then began the climb upwards. Was it silly? Yes. Was it unnecessary? Yes, absolutely. But was she gonna do it anyway? Yes. She had to. Didn’t feel like she had a choice. If she didn’t do it, the spine tingling sensation wouldn’t leave her system today, and Emma didn’t want to be uncomfortable for the rest of the day. Rather do something that was a bit silly just to be sure....

“Up we go,” Emma muttered encouragingly to herself and took a deep breath. Her heart was thudding in her chest, but she firmly told herself that it was only because she was out of breath and not because she was afraid or anything. Definitely not. There was nothing to be afraid of. Absolutely nothing. “You’re fine,” she told herself. “You’re absolutely fine. Don’t let anything ruin this for you!” because that was what this was about, really. That old “ghost story” had made her paranoid. Emma was sensitive. Had always been. If she watched a scary movie it wouldn’t take long before she suddenly felt like she could both see and hear all kinds of stupid stuff. And she wouldn’t let this “ghost story” turn into that. She refused to be paranoid and dumb. 

“There is no ‘Phantom of the opera’,” she firmly told herself as she reached another level. “You’re just being paranoid as usual.” She grabbed the railing and continued upwards. “And clearly talking to yourself too. That can’t be healthy.” It probably wasn’t, but nevertheless, Emma was and had always been prone to talking to herself. Couldn’t help it. It had always made her parents laugh, but Emma herself actually was a bit embarrassed about it. Talking to herself was weird. Not something you should do. Not even if you were alone. 

So she settled for thinking it. There is no Phantom of the opera. There is no Phantom of the opera. It’s just a stupid story. Just a silly, made up story. What happened to Christine was a tragic accident. Mal could be right, maybe Christine had created “the Phantom” because she was upset about her father’s dead. A way to cope. An invisible friend or something like that. Yes. That actually sounded pretty plausible. Poor girl. Maybe she really had gone into the underground tunnels to kill herself. So tragic. Emma felt sorry for her. And for Mal. It was clear that she had loved Christine. But it wasn’t her fault that she was gone. Mal really shouldn’t blame herself like that. How could she possibly have known?

Emma was a bit out of breath when she finally reached her destination. Box five. Yes, maybe it was silly, but this was something that Emma had to do. She had to see for herself that there was nothing scary up here. She needed to “de-scary” it so to speak. Confront her fears. 

Emma chuckled quietly to herself. Now her little mission actually seemed pretty silly. Unnecessary. Much ado about nothing. What had she been expecting? Someone jumping out from underneath the chair and saying boo? That was ridiculous. She was letting her imagination running wild. Because of a ghost story either Christine or someone else had fabricated. 

Emma scoffed at herself. This was pretty idiotic, even for her. Ruby and Lily were waiting for her. She had to grab her bag and then get back to her friends.

But first she had to do one last thing. Emma looked around at the big stage. “Hello?” she called completely innocently. “Hello, is someone there?” 

No answer. Of course not. Emma chuckled and could feel how her shoulders returned to their normal position. Nothing to be nervous about. Nothing scary to see. No one yelling “boo!” in her face. Not that she had expected that or anything. Obviously not. 

With her mind soothed, Emma saw no reason to hang around here for longer. Ruby and Lily were waiting for her, after all. And they were probably wondering what the heck was taking her so long. She had wasted enough time. 

She turned around, fully prepared to head back down the stairs and forget this nonsense once and for all, but as she looked down to pay attention to the steps, something on the floor caught her attention. What on earth was that? Emma crouched down so she could see what it was. She frowned. It was....a feather. A black feather there on the red velvet carpet. What would a feather be doing here? 

Emma picked it up. It felt soft between her fingers, but she didn’t get the opportunity to study it for long before she noticed a second black feather. This one was lying right behind the chair occupying box five. Emma shivered suddenly as she picked up the second black feather. Two black feathers. One right by the stairs. One behind the chair. Emma’s colorful imagination easily combined that with the footsteps she’d heard. Could someone... No. Of course not. That was ridiculous. Surely, no one had rushed up the stairs to box five and then ducked down behind the chair to avoid being seen. That was nonsense. Complete and utter nonsense. Her imagination running wild again.

But then how did those two black feathers end up here? Honestly, Emma had no explanation for that. There had been no performances in here for a while, Mal had said so. No one in costumes could have been up here. Why would they? She felt chilled to the bone as she looked at the feathers in her hands. God, why couldn’t she just come up with a perfectly rational explanation as to why *someone* had left/dropped two black feathers on the floor in box five. The box that always should be kept empty. If that was the case, why had someone been up here? What did this even mean? Was there a meaning? 

And if so, did she even want to know it?

No. No, she did not. She should not have come here. Why did she have to be so curious?! Why couldn’t she just leave well enough alone? She had become entirely too curious ever since arriving in Paris.   
Maybe this was some sort of punishment for that.

Emma bit her lip as she looked around in the stage room. There was no one here, and yet she didn’t feel alone. She rose from her kneeling position and stuffed the two feathers into her pocket. She couldn’t even explain why she did it, why she wanted to hang on to these two black feathers, perhaps she simply wanted some sort of proof. Evidence that she wasn’t crazy or making up things. She knew that this was real. And She also knew that she really needed to get back to her friends right now! She didn’t want to be here a minute longer. 

In a matter of seconds, Emma had ran back down the stairs, grabbed her bag and then sprinted towards the door as fast as her legs could carry her, and when Ruby and Lily asked her why she looked so pale, Emma just shrugged lightly. 

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Lily joked. 

Emma couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t even smile. The feathers felt heavy in her pocket all the sudden....

To Be Continued..........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *creepyness intensifies*


	6. In Sleep (S)he Sang To Me

Emma was so utterly exhausted. Today had been beyond challenging. She had slept terrible last night. She actually had for the past week. Ever since the discovery of the two black feathers in box five. Her thoughts had been swirling, swirling, swirling around in her mind, and she had fought to find a rational explanation. Normally, Emma was good at finding logic in unlogic things, but this time she had come up empty. She hadn’t been able to think of any reason why those two feathers were in box five. She couldn’t exactly ask about it either because she wasn’t supposed to have been in box five in the first place. If she asked, she would incriminate herself in the process, and Emma didn’t want to get in trouble or anything. 

But she couldn’t let go of the discovery of the two black feathers. She couldn’t just toss them away and pretend that nothing had happened. She wanted answers. She wanted to find that rational explanation as to why those two feathers had been in box five. Yes, she wanted answers, but she also wanted those answers to come to her on their own accord. Didn’t want to seek them out. Was afraid to seek them out. Ruby’s words about how Christine potentially had “messed” with something she shouldn’t have messed with kept haunting Emma when she was in bed at night and supposed to sleep. A feeling had settled in her gut. A sense of uneasiness. A sense of dread. She had tried to tell herself that she was just being silly, but the feeling refused to leave her. She couldn’t quell the feeling that something was wrong. 

It was mostly at night those thoughts haunted her. During the day when she was busy rehearsing or being with her friends, it was easier to convince herself that this was just a strange form of homesickness. Something she just had to get over. But how did you get over something you didn’t know what was? How did you get over a feeling you couldn’t pinpoint? Because everything was fine. 

There had been no incidents. No members of the choir going missing. No chandeliers falling from the ceiling. No footsteps hastily walking away. No whispering voices murmuring.

Perhaps she was actually going crazy. Emma had considered that. Did she feel crazy? Well yes, perhaps a little at night when she was lying in her bed and wondering. But wasn’t that a good sign? Did crazy people feel crazy? She wasn’t so sure. 

Emma had hidden the two black feathers away at the bottom of a drawer, but more often than not, she found herself opening the drawer and looking at the two feathers whilst wondering. Not only about where they came from and who had dropped them, but also about Christine Daaé. She still knew so little about this mysterious girl who’d lived in the same room as her. The choir girl who went missing on her big night only to be found dead in the catacombs the next morning. What had happened? Had she really gone down there to kill herself? No. Ruby didn’t believe that, and she had been friends with Christine. Good friends. She had known her. If Christine was struggling, she would have come to her. Ruby had said so herself. But what then? An accident? A tragic drowning accident. Yes, perhaps. 

Accidents happened. Accidents happened all the time. But like this? This brought on the next question. What had Christine being doing in the catacombs? It had been her big night. She should have been celebrating her triumph with her friends. Not skulk around in the cellars. That didn’t make sense. She had to have been there for a reason, right? 

But which reason? What young woman would sneak into the cellars on her big night?

The kind of young woman who had a secret. Emma was sure of that. Was sure that Christine had been in the cellars for a reason. But for what reason? What kind of secret had prompted her to venture into the catacombs on her big night? If Christine wasn’t “crazy” and/or making stuff up, what had been the reason for her visit to the catacombs?

Emma didn’t know what to think. The story Ruby had told her about Christine claiming to be taught how to sing by an “Angel of Music” did not seem very realistic. It actually seemed pretty crazy. But Ruby had kept insisting that Christine was not crazy. And if she wasn’t...... No. This so-called “Angel of Music” had to be something Christine had made up because she missed her father. Right? Right?

But still, she couldn’t look past the facts. And those were, one: the murmured “brava, brava, bravissima” she’d heard through her headphones. Emma was sure she hadn’t just imagined that. And two: the footsteps when she was walking around on the big stage and singing to herself. Yeah, she was pretty sure there had been a person present. Someone that wasn’t Maurice. He’d even said so, she had remembered a few nights ago. That he’d just gotten there when he called out to Emma. Ergo, it couldn’t have been him walking around in the half-darkness between the chairs. And why would he? Emma doubted that Maurice should have had any reason to want to scare her. No, there had to have been a third person present. Which brought her to fact number three: the two black feathers behind the seat in box number five. Those feathers didn’t just fall out of the sky. No. Someone had either dropped them or left them there on purpose. Someone. But who? An “angel of music”? Did Emma really believe that? No. She couldn’t. She had plenty of imagination, but this she couldn’t believe. Nor did she believe it to be “a ghost”. Of course she didn’t. Whoever it was, was a real, living person. Someone who knew the story of “The Phantom of the Opera” and had decided to mess with her. Maybe it was some sort of prank they made with the younger choir members to scare them. A way of “welcoming” them to the Opera Garnier. Emma would have to investigate that. She wasn’t gonna get angry at the person doing it, she just wanted it to stop that was all. She didn’t want any problems while she was here. 

Another long and challenging rehearsing day was coming to an end. They had been rehearsing a very difficult piece all afternoon and all members of the choir were still struggling to get it right. They would rehearse it again tomorrow, but there would be no more singing tonight. Instead there would be dinner and then homework. It was a hard program, but Emma still loved it. She loved that she was being challenged singing-vice. If only the other “challenges” she was currently facing would stop and things could go back to normal. That was all she wanted. 

Emma lifted the tray and carefully balanced the plate of chicken pot pie and glass of water standing on it. If she dropped the tray, her dinner would be ruined, and she was definitely not interested in that. 

She stretched her neck and looked around. Clusters of people here. Occupied tables there. She was close to considering to bring the tray upstairs and eat in her room when she spotted an unoccupied table in the corner. Perfect. Emma settled down by the unoccupied table and dug into her dinner. She had nothing against eating by herself. It had been a long day full of human interacting. The twitching sensation just underneath her left eye told her that she was close to reacting her limit. Good thing she could study in peace in her room. 

Her room....

No. Emma firmly shook her head as though to scold herself. She refused to let herself play this game. She was NOT gonna be afraid of her room. That was ridiculous. Her room was a perfectly nice place. A safe place. It didn’t matter that it once had belonged to Christine. Now it was HER room. She had put up posters and pictures of her parents. She had covered the bed with the blue bedspread her mother so lovingly had made for her. The shelves were occupied by the collection of Jane Austen stories her dad had bought for her as a going away present. The room belonged to her in every sense of the word. 

So why was it that it didn’t FEEL like hers? It felt like the ghost of the girl who once lived in the room somehow was there and watching Emma’s every move. Every time Emma put up a new poster or put her clothes away in the drawer, it felt like she was somehow disrespecting Christine. Simply by living in the room. Emma sighed a bit as she forked up another bite of the pie and stuffed it inside her mouth. Oddly enough, she was loosing her appetite, but she refused to acknowledge it. She was fine. Everything was fine. She hadn’t experienced “anything” since the discovery of the feathers a week ago. 

And it wasn’t like two feathers were that scary, really. They were just a prop. A part of this silly prank someone was playing on her. Emma flushed the piece of pie down with a gulp of water. Pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and tipped up her chin. She was fine. Absolutely fine. And she had to stop going over everything again and again. It wouldn’t help anything. She would only end up frustrated and sleep deprived. And she couldn’t be that here. Her life was busy now. There wasn’t room for sleepless nights. She bowed her head and concentrated on her pie instead. Food was important too. Food and rest. And plenty of tea to make sure her voice stayed nice and smooth. So far, Emma was doing a pretty good job at minding the rules. Well, except for her “illegal” visit to the Big Scene. And box five. But that was a well-kept secret she wasn’t planning on revealing to anyone. Emma had always been pretty good at keeping secrets.

“Hey.” 

Emma looked up when she heard Lily’s voice, and she quickly returned the smile. “Hi.”

“Can I sit?” Lily asked, nodding towards the empty chair opposite Emma. “All the other tables are taken.”

“Sure,” Emma said and did her best to sound brisk and not uninterested. Because she wasn’t uninterested. She was just tired.

“Thanks,” Lily said, smile widening as she sat down with her own filled dinner tray. She clearly had more of an appetite than Emma did on this particular night. 

“Good rehearsal tonight,” Lily said small talk like between bites of her dinner. 

“Mmm,” Emma nodded. “But tough, don’t you think?”

“Oh yeah, Mme. Carlotta is making our lives a living hell,” Lily joked. 

Emma chuckled slightly. “I don’t think so. She’s not so bad.”

“You’re so diplomatic, Em,” Lily laughed. “Not like me at all.”

“You’re not that bad either,” Emma grinned and briefly considered whether she should have said that. She didn’t want to give Lily false hope or anything. 

But Lily just snorted. “Thanks a bunch.”

Emma chuckled again and took a sip of her water. 

“You wanna hang out once we’re done with the homework?” Lily asked. “We could hang out in my room and rehearse or something.”

“I don’t think my voice can take much more rehearsal today.” Emma wrinkled her nose. 

“Alright then,” Lily chuckled. “How about just hanging out then? Without singing.”

Emma swallowed and licked her lips. This was difficult. Lily was so nice. Emma didn’t want to hurt her by rejecting her. What if Lily got angry and didn’t want to be her friend anymore? Emma knew she   
needed to make friends here. Otherwise she would end up getting lonely like her parents were afraid of. 

“Actually, I haven’t been sleeping so well all week,” she said and hoped she sounded genuine. “And I’m getting a headache, so I think I’ll go to bed early and see if I can sleep it away.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” Lily smiled. “Not sleeping well sucks.”

“It does,” Emma nodded. She reached out and took a sip of her water and once she had carefully swallowed the mouthful, she licked her lips and asked: “Lily?”

“Yeah?” 

“Is it common for the younger choir members to get pranked?”

“Pranked?” Lily frowned. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Are you being pranked?”

“I think I might be,” Emma replied. 

“In which way?”

Emma shrugged. “Little things. Someone sneaking around to make me scared, not answering when I asked if someone was there, you know? That kind of thing.” 

“That’s a pretty crappy thing to do,” Lily said, still frowning. “Have you talked to my mum about it? Maybe she can find out who’s doing it.”

“I don’t think it’s anyone who’s trying to make me upset,” Emma said quickly. “Just someone messing with me for fun. But I haven’t experienced anything for a week now, so maybe they’ve stopped again.”

“Yeah,” Lily nodded and scrunched up her nose. “But seriously, if it starts again, tell my mum about it. No one should mess with you. That’s not cool.”

Emma smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” she didn’t want to be a tattletale. Or overreact. It wasn’t like she had been hurt or anything. The things that happened to her, the ‘brava, brava, bravissima’, the footsteps and the rustling had all been pretty harmless. And definitely funny to whoever it was who was doing it. Emma could see why someone would use that as a way to prank her. 

“You’re sure?” Lily pressed. “If you’re being bullied-“

“I’m not,” Emma said quickly. She was sure she wasn’t. Why would anyone want to bully her? She’d mostly kept to herself since arriving here. And as far as she knew, she hadn’t stepped on any toes. At least she didn’t think so. 

“Please promise me you’ll tell my mum or Mme. Carlotta if it starts again, okay?” Lily said and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. 

“I promise,” Emma said immediately and flashed her friend a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

Lily didn’t look convinced but nevertheless nodded and dug into her dinner again. Emma did the same thing, and she and Lily chitchatted about random things. The rehearsals. The upcoming concert in a few months. What they were gonna do this weekend. Anything but the pranks Emma had been a victim of. Knowing that it wasn’t customary to tease the newcomers made Emma feel a bit disheartened. 

She had hoped that it was a regular thing. She’d hoped that Lily had admitted to being put through the same things, but that clearly wasn’t the case. Someone had chosen Emma especially for this purpose, and Emma didn’t like it. She didn’t like being selected like this. If it did happen again, she would definitely talk to Mal about it. 

Once they were done eating, Lily persuaded Emma to hang out for at least a little while. Emma didn’t decline. It was still very early, and if she kept claiming that she wanted to go to bed right after dinner, Lily would A: think she was sick. Or B: think that Emma was purposefully avoiding her. And Emma didn’t want her to think that. They ended up studying together in Lily’s room and it was actually pretty nice. Lily’s room didn’t have that funny smell. That was the first thing Emma noticed upon setting foot in Lily’s room. It only smelled of fresh air and absolutely nothing else. Emma silently wondered why her room had that strange, spicy smell. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant, just strange. Not the kind of smell that really belonged in an opera house. 

Lily cursed quietly under her breath as she looked up from her math assignment. “Why is this so difficult?!”

Emma chuckled quietly. “I don’t know.” Math wasn’t her favorite subject either. She was better with languages. She had been complimented for her French, which was the preferred language here. Mme. Carlotta’s lessons were in French. Most of Mal’s were too, but sometimes she spoke English to her students to make it a little easier. Emma had been studying French for a year and a half. Ever since the first audition. Ever since finding out that maybe, just maybe she could find herself at the Opera Garnier. 

“I hate math,” Lily said simply. “And it’s not like I have anything to use it for later. I want to sing. Always. I don’t know why mum keeps insisting that I need something to fall back on.”

Emma chuckled again. “My parents are the same.”

Lily snorted. “Seriously? Emma, you’ll sing for the rest of your life.”

“You think so?” Emma asked spontaneously. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Lily said firmly. “You’re gonna make it big. Trust me.” 

Emma felt her cheeks heat up. “I don’t know whether you’re right about that.”

“Em!” Lily scolded as she patted Emma’s hand once. “You gotta believe in yourself.”

“No, I do, it’s just-“

“How’s it going with the coach?” Lily interrupted. “Do you feel like it’s helping with the stage fright?” 

Emma so wished she could have said yes. She wished she could have told Lily that her stage fright was getting so much better already. “I haven’t been seeing the coach for that long yet,” she said diplomatically. “But I’m sure I’ll see results soon.”

“My mum says that sometimes it’s all about having the right mindset,” Lily shrugged. “If you visualize that it’ll help, it will. Or some crap like that.”

Emma laughed almost against her will. “Well, I’m sure she’s right about that.” With that she bowed her head over her homework one more time and tried to concentrate. But it was hard to do that when she   
was wondering at the same time. Did she not have the right mindset? Was there a part of her deep down that didn’t want to be rid of her stage fright? 

No, of course not. That was ridiculous. Of course she wanted to be rid of the stage fright. She wanted that more than anything. But the right mindset.... Did she really believe that this coach somehow would be able to help her with all her problems and come up with a solution? 

No. She didn’t. She couldn’t fully explain why. Maybe it was because she already had tried so many different things and coaches. This was just the next one in line.

“Emma?”

“Huh?” Emma hastily snapped out of it and looked at Lily. 

“Study?” Lily half-chuckled. 

“Yes. Of course. Study,” Emma nodded. 

“What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing. Just... zoning out for a second.

Lily laughed. “Yeah. Math tends to do that to you.”

“Yeah,” Emma forced out a laugh and bowed her head over her homework once more and did her utmost to concentrate on doing math. But she couldn’t stop thinking about what Lily had said. Having the right mindset. Maybe that was her problem. She didn’t believe enough in the coach. She had to change her attitude. And maybe say yes to the coach’s offer about trying hypnosis sometimes. It couldn’t hurt, right? And it was about the only thing she hadn’t tried yet. Who knew, maybe it would work. One thing was sure, though. She was not gonna try nature medicine again. That definitely did not work. It just tasted foul and made her stomach unhappy. 

“Fuck math,” Lily said simply.

“Lily!” Emma protested but couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What, no one can hear me,” Lily chuckled. 

“No, but still...” But Emma’s protests weren’t very genuine. She was laughing. Lily was always so funny. Emma glanced discreetly at her. Her dark hair and dark eyes. Lily looked good. Yes. But Emma didn’t feel an ounce of attraction towards her. And she felt guilty for it. She knew that Lily liked her as more than a friend, but Emma had no idea how to let her down gently. She had never tried to let anyone down. Gently or not gently. Nobody had ever had crush on her before. At least no one that she knew of. And she had certainly not been crushing on anyone either. There was that niggling worry in the back of her head. Was she somehow programmed wrong or something? She was seventeen. She was supposed to develop crushes on people, right?

She sucked in a breath and concentrated on her homework. Now was not the time to ask herself deep questions...

Once their little study session came to an end and it was time for the students to return to their own rooms, Lily insisted upon escorting Emma back there. 

Emma didn’t protest. She simply smiled and thanked Lily once they reached her room. 

“No problem,” Lily said lightly. “Thanks for wanting to study with me tonight. You’re like...really good at math.”

“I’m not,” Emma protested. “I hope there won’t be any errors in your assignment-“

“Won’t be the end of the world if there is,” Lily chuckled. 

“No,” Emma agreed even though she felt like it kind of would. “I suppose not.” As she spoke, she unlocked her door and pushed it open. She poked her head inside, sniffed and then frowned as she turned to Lily and asked: “does my room smell funny to you?”

Lily too poked her head inside and sniffed. “A little,” she admitted. “Kinda smells like apples. Have you had any apples in here?”

“No,” Emma said and shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Well, then it’s probably just Ruby or Belle’s perfume or something like that,” Lily said with a light shrug. “Anyway, I should get back before mum busts me for lurking in the hallways or something like that.   
Goodnight, Em.”

“Goodnight, Lily,” Emma said and earned herself a light pat on the arm. Lily took off and Emma was left standing on the threshold to her odd smelling room. Emma went inside and closed the door behind her. Not locking it. She didn’t like locking it at night. Only when she left her room for a longer period of time like today. 

The scent of apples was even stronger when coming fully into the room. Emma sniffed and looked around. This was peculiar. How could her room smell of apples when she hadn’t been eating apples at all? Her shampoo wasn’t apple scented either. It was vanilla scented. Like her conditioner. Did Ruby or Belle wear apple scented perfume? Emma would have to pay attention to that tomorrow. She stretched her arms above her neck until something popped loudly in her shoulder. Had she been tensing while doing her homework? It seemed so. She would have to remember to relax her muscles the next time. She was grateful she didn’t have to do anything else today. Except for changing into her pajamas and go to bed. It had been a long day, and she really hoped that she would be able to sleep tonight. She needed sleep. There had been this niggling headache right between her eyes all week. The kind of headache that told her that she was sleep deprived. Emma carefully rolled her head from side to side until she heard another faint popping sound from somewhere in her body. She couldn’t quite determinate where, but she hoped that her body soon would stop protesting against this new and softer mattress. This was her bed now, and she would just have to get used to that. 

Emma unbuttoned her jeans and wiggled out of them. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and made sure to fold both items neatly before stuffing them inside her drawer. She didn’t want her clothes to end up crumbled. She reached back, unclasped her bra and stuffed that away in the drawer as well. Then she reached within another drawer and found her pajama. The fluffy blue one with white clouds on it. Her mom had bought the pajamas for her on their last shopping trip. Emma chuckled as she buttoned the pajama shirt. She supposed she was a bit too old to wear silly nightwear like this pajamas, but what the heck. She was only going to bed. There was no one around to see her in this pajamas. And it reminded her of home. It soothed some of that homesickness shew was still wrestling with. Emma brushed a hand over the pajamas and grabbed her hairbrush from the bedside table. She then walked over to the enormous mirror and began brushing her hair to get rid of all the tangles. Maybe she should have done this when she brushed her teeth in the bathroom earlier, but she didn’t think of that at the time, and she certainly had no intention of going to the bathroom now and risk being seen in this pajamas. She chuckled slightly to herself as she ran the hairbrush through her hair. After a moment, she put the hairbrush down again and twisted her hair into a loose side braid like she always did at night. Now there was only one more thing left to do. Go to bed. But as soon as Emma looked at the single bed in the corner, her stomach churned, and her shoulders curled. She sighed. Why? Why had she suddenly developed an irrational fear of going to bed? What was she so afraid of? It didn’t make sense. This was her room. Her cozy little room with charming-and-for-no-obvious-reason apple scent. 

How could she possibly be nervous about that? Emma put her hands on her hips, annoyed at herself as she looked around in the room. This had to stop. She didn’t know how exactly, but it had to. Whatever twisted form of homesickness this was, she refused to have any of it. She was okay. She was fine. Her room was fine. And there was nothing scary about going to bed. Tonight she would sleep like a baby, she decided as she almost defiantly stomped over to the bed. She sat down on the edge for a second and took a couple of deep breaths as though to calm herself. Then she lied down and pulled the covers up. All the way up to her chin. This could have been comfortable. Should have been comfortable. So why wasn’t it? Why did something heavy immediately settle in her stomach? Why did the skin in the back of her neck immediately start to prickle in that particular way? Emma shivered involuntarily as curled up under the covers. Well, now she was definitely straining her muscles. Again. 

Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Just like that. Nice and easy. Maybe she could try thinking about nice things. Like, what she was gonna do tomorrow. Or maybe she could call her parents. No. That was a dumb idea. She was not supposed to call home until in two days. And if she called them now, they would only get worried. They would start to ask questions, and Emma wasn’t so sure she could fake being completely fine. No calling home. It would make her homesickness worse. Maybe she could listen to some music instead. Until she fell asleep. Or maybe that was a bad idea too. Emma could still remember that time where she had fallen asleep wearing her earbuds and had woken up with the cord wrapped around her neck in the middle of night. She had been close to panicking because it felt like she had been close to choking. She probably hadn’t, but she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling, and ever since she had refrained from wearing her earbuds when falling asleep. Emma shifted under the covers. What could she do to calm herself? What could she do to ensure herself that everything was fine when all she thought about was the pranks, she’d been a victim of? Such innocent pranks, really. During the day. Laughable attempts at scaring her, even. During the day. At night it was a different story. At night, the silly little pranks suddenly turned into the most terrifying thing ever. Emma knew she was being paranoid, and she loaded herself for it. Loaded herself for feeling so uncomfortable in the one place she had dreamed about since she was a little girl. She was seventeen years old, for god’s sake. Too old to be scared over being away from home. Maybe she would talk to her coach about it. Not the stupid pranks, but her homesickness. She was hardly the first young member of the choir who felt like she was far away from home. This probably happened all the time, and maybe the coach could help her. It would probably get better the moment she spoke openly about it. That was how these things always worked, right? 

Yes, Emma decided. Yes, that had to be the way to go. Talking about it. And in the meantime, she would try the “think lovely thoughts”-thing one more time. She could do that. Think about something nice. Like when she was a little girl and had had a nightmare. That was what her mom always said to her when she tried to soothe her back to sleep. ‘Just think about something nice, sweetie’. So she squeezed her eyes shut and tried. But unfortunately, she ended up thinking about Storybrooke, about her parents, about her house where most of the nice things she’d experienced had happened. Emma cursed a little under her breath. She was hopeless. The point with this wasn’t to make herself more upset! But she couldn’t help it. Now she was thinking of cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkled with cinnamon. Sunday dinners and picnics. Driving around town with her dad for no reason, and shopping trips with her mom. Trips to the cinema. All those little things that had made her childhood so perfect. Emma sighed. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She was seventeen and she was currently living her dream here at the Opera Garnier. She should focus on that and be grateful. Not think about the way her mom often had sung her to sleep when she was younger. God, her mom had been an expert when it came to lullabies. Emma chuckled dryly to herself. She could have used a lullaby right now. 

And who said she couldn’t get one? She could sing herself to sleep, couldn’t she? Yeah, maybe it was weird, but singing always soothed Emma like nothing else. She quickly searched her mind for a song. A nice, sweet one. A familiar one that would remind her of all things nice and cozy.

With her eyes still closed, she quietly cleared her throat as though to warm up, and then she quietly and slowly began to sing to herself: ‘I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream, I know you-“ she stopped abruptly when realizing that she couldn’t remember the next part. Had it really been that long since she last sung that one? Emma frowned in concentration and strained herself to remember the next part. ‘I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream, I know you, that-‘ that what? That look in your eyes is such a familiar something-something? Emma couldn’t for the life of her remember right now, and she found it to be rather irritating. She felt too lazy to reach for her phone and google the lyrics and she tried to remember the rest of the song one more time. But it was gone. Pretty embarrassing, really. She would have to brush up on her Disney. Or at least the songs. 

......’I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam, and I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem....’

Emma sat bold upright in the bed with the covers clutched tightly against her chest. “W-what?” 

‘But if I know you, I know what you’ll do, you’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream....’

A shiver ran down Emma’s spine and all the little hairs in the back of her neck stood on edge as she listened to the ghostly voice echoing in her room. The ghostly, hoarse and velvet soft echo of a woman’s voice in her room. Emma’s palms went damp and her mouth dry. For the first time she cursed herself for being a trained singer and immediately pick up on how beautiful that voice was. That was not what she should pick up on right now! 

‘Ah-ah, ah-ah....’ 

It felt like Emma’s heart was gonna leap right out of her throat when the strange voice shifted from singing to humming lowly. Somehow that was even more jarring and sinister than the singing had been. 

“Who’s there?!” Emma demanded, trying to be brave despite the goosebumps blossoming on her skin. “Who are you?!”

The following deep and hoarse yet ice cold laughter that followed her question chilled Emma to the bone. There was no one here. Her room was empty. The voice... came from nowhere. “Go away!” she said. “Leave me alone!” 

A single, deep, rich chuckle followed and then nothing. Her room fell silent again. Dead silent. Emma grabbed her duvet and pillow and leapt from the bed as fast and ran out of the room as fast as her legs could carry her. This wasn’t just someone playing a harmless little prank on her. No. This was someone taunting her in the most malicious way possible. This... This was cruel. Beyond cruel!

Emma didn’t know who and why, but she knew that she didn’t want to stay a minute longer in her room!

On bare feet, Emma rushed down the hallway with her pillow and duvet in tow, and a second later she was more or less pounding on the door to Lily’s room.

It didn’t take long before Lily opened the door. She was wearing a pajamas of her own and her hair was ruffled from sleep. But she sounded awake as ever as she said: “Em? What happened?”

“I...” Emma swallowed. She couldn’t tell the truth. Even in her own head it sounded ridiculous. “I think the radiator in my room is broken. It’s super cold. Would it be alright if I slept in your room tonight?   
I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Sure,” Lily said, stepping aside. “Come in.”

“Thanks,” Emma said and flashed Lily a grateful smile as she slipped inside the room. “I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it. Have Maurice check out your radiator tomorrow,” Lily said as she shut the door behind her and then hauled a couple of blankets out of the bottom drawer. “Do you want me to find my mom and ask her to bring in a mattress or something?” 

“No-no, the blankets are fine,” Emma assured as she took said blankets from Lily and spread them out on the floor to make an impromptu bed. “Thank you so much.”

“Sure thing,” Lily yawned and scratched her hair. “I hope the floor isn’t too hard. Otherwise tell me. You can sleep in my bed.” 

“I have the blankets,” Emma smiled as she settled down on them with her pillow and duvet. This was definitely way better than her room. How was she even supposed to return to her own room after this?!

“Alright. Goodnight then, Em. Sleep well,” Lily said as she climbed back into bed and switched the nightlight off.

“’Night, Lily.” Emma said. She curled into a tight ball under the duvet and waited. It didn’t take long before she heard Lily’s breath even out and become deep and slow. She had fallen asleep again. 

The smile instantly disappeared from Emma’s face. Sleep well. No. She was not gonna sleep well tonight. There was something in her room. Someone. And it was more than just a silly prank. Whatever it was, it was something real. Someone real. Emma rubbed her arms where goosebumps had erupted on her skin. Something crept into her mind. Something that scared her into shivering once more. The thought of Christine’s “Phantom of the opera’. The thought of how this ‘Phantom’ perhaps wasn’t such a myth after all....

No. No, no, no! Emma furiously shook her head. God, she could NOT think about that right now! Because it couldn’t be possible, right? Right?!

Emma knew right away that she wouldn’t get any sleep tonight either. 

To Be Continued.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phaaaaaantom of the opera is there, inside your mind.....


	7. In Dreams She Came

Emma was a mess the next morning. She hadn’t slept at all during the night, and while Lily had snored softly in her bed, Emma had laid awake and driven herself mad because she had kept going over and over what had happened and come morning, she had reacted a conclusion. She was not crazy. There had definitely been a voice singing to her. And as scared as she was, she could also feel a strange curiosity swirl through her. She wanted to know who, how and why. But most important was who. This couldn’t just be an innocent prank. To pull this off, someone would have to have stood outside her room with their ear plastered to the door and listened while she sang to herself and then choosing the exact right moment to sing along. That would be to take a prank too far. And Emma doubted it even was physically possible. If someone had been standing outside her door and singing, someone else would have noticed it. Lily or Ruby. Or the whole dormitory. And besides, the hallway was straight up and straight down. No nooks or crooks to hide in. Emma had rushed out of the room right after that chilling laughter. If someone had taken of, it would have been impossible for them to not be seen by Emma. 

To sum it up, there was no rational explanation for this. At least none that Emma could think about. Nothing about this made sense what so ever. Which meant that Emma had no choice but to consider the irrational explanations. But did she really dare letting herself think about that? Would she even be able to concentrate about anything else if she did? She needed.... She needed a plan. And as she gathered her duvet and pillow and thanked Lily for letting her sleep on the floor, she managed to cook one up. Well, at least a half-hearted one. 

“Want me to find Maurice and ask him about the radiator?” Lily offered.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll find him myself,” Emma smiled. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” Lily said and returned the smile. “I hope you’ll get the heater fixed soon.”

“I’m sure I will. See you at breakfast,” Emma said as she flashed her friend one last smile and then left Lily’s room. 

She walked down the hallway and nearly collided with Belle in her eagerness. “Oops,” Emma said as she stepped backwards. 

“Good morning,” Belle smiled. “Slept well?”

“Yeah,” Emma lied and hoped that Belle wouldn’t question why she was running around with her pillow and duvet. 

She didn’t. Belle just smiled. “See you at breakfast.”

“Yeah. See you,” Emma said hastily and flashed her a quick smile before continuing down the hallway towards her own room. 

She wasn’t sure what she even had expected when she ripped the door to her room open. To see it thrashed or something, maybe. But everything looked exactly as she left it the night before. Untouched. Undisturbed. That was good, but not what Emma had come for. No, she had something completely else on her mind. She closed the door to her room and dumped the duvet and pillow on her bed. Then she began her search. She looked around in every corner of the room, desperately trying to locate a speaker. There had to be one somewhere in the room. How else would someone have been able to make it sound like their voice was inside Emma’s room? A speaker was the only explanation. The very last part of rationality which Emma was currently hanging onto with her nails. 

But there was no speaker. She checked anywhere. Even in her drawers and under the bed. She came up empty and sat down on her bed in defeat. Then she drove herself slightly crazy as she went over it one. Last. Time. There had been no one in her room tonight. That was a fact, and an ice cold one. No one had been in her room. There were also no speakers in her room. Not hidden nor in plain sight. 

And there also hadn’t been someone standing outside her room when she rushed into the hallway last night. She would have noticed. And besides, which bored individual would really go out of their way to take a silly prank this far?

No one. She’d made no enemies in the short time she’d been here. And pranking a random girl seemed a bit much...

That brought her back to irrational explanations. The ones that didn’t make any logical sense. Christine’s “Phantom of the opera”. Christine’s “Angel of Music”... images of Christine laying dead in an underground lake flickered before Emma’s inner eye, and the skin in the back of her neck constricted as goosebumps flared up. Surely that couldn’t be....real, could it? Everything in Emma said no. Of course it couldn’t. And yet... she couldn’t deny that she’d heard a voice in her room last night. It hadn’t been a dream or a nightmare or whatever. It had been real. A hundred percent real. She wasn’t in doubt of that. But would others be? Lily wouldn’t believe her, Emma already knew that without asking. But what about Ruby? She had believed Christine. Sort of. She had at least believed that Christine maybe had “messed around with something she shouldn’t have”. But the thing was, Emma hadn’t. She hadn’t messed around with anything. The only thing she had been doing was minding her own business. And she was still being targeted. The skin in the back of Emma’s neck prickled again as she thought of that strange women’s voice, she’d heard last night. That chilling singing and terrifying laughter. That had definitely been a threat. Emma didn’t doubt that. That laughter had made all the little hairs on her arms stand upright, and that was also what had made her flee the room in terror. 

But the singing...... Emma sort of hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help feeling oddly curious. Wrong emotion, she knew that. She should be terrified. Horrified. In the process of asking for a room change right now. And yes, she was scared. Shook up. That was the most dominant feeling. But there was also something else there. Curiosity. She had to find out who was the owner of that beautiful voice she’d heard in her room last night. Who could that ethereal, soft, and velvet smooth voice belong to? Who could sing in a way that didn’t even sound human? 

A Phantom of the opera? Or an Angel of music? Emma wasn’t sure what to believe. But one thing she did know. She should get a move on. Breakfast would be served soon. Emma jumped up from the bed and rushed over to her dresser and almost ripped it open in her eagerness. She hauled out a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater. She had slept horribly and that always made her a little extra sensitive to the cold. Today was definitely an oversized sweater kind of day. 

Emma tried to keep the worst yawning at bay as she got ready for the day. And she more than tried to stop being paranoid. She had to stop glancing around at every little sound. There was no one here. She was fine. Everything was fine. She took a breath as she dragged a brush through her tangled hair and then forced the locks into a high ponytail. She grabbed her glasses and perched them on her nose, and everything immediately felt a little better. Sharper. She actually felt like she was ready to go out and meet the world. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and left her room to brush her teeth. A better taste in her mouth would probably make everything feel better.

One toothbrushing later, Emma was heading down to the canteen. And she firmly told herself that everything was better now. That she wasn’t gonna think about ghosts and mysterious, alluring singing in her room. Definitely not. Today was gonna be a busy day, and of course Emma would only focus on singing. Rehearsing the difficult piece they were supposed to learn and sing to the concert in a few months. 

But breakfast didn’t really apply to her this morning. She found that she didn’t have much of an appetite and instead of eating, she pushed her food around on the plate. She was sitting at a table alone. 

She didn’t mind that. She could use a few minutes to recharge before having to interact with her fellow choir members for many hours. Sometimes Emma felt bad for needing alone time, but then she reminded herself of what her mom always said. That it wasn’t a bad thing. It was just how she was programmed, and there was nothing wrong with that at all. Emma chuckled a little to herself as she took a tiny bite of her toast. It didn’t really taste of anything on this particular morning, but she knew she had to eat breakfast. The most important meal of the day. She couldn’t skip that. She would end up feeling dizzy and nauseous around lunch time. 

Emma’s musings about breakfast was interrupted when Ruby came over to her table with a filled breakfast tray in her hands. “Hey, Em.”

“Good morning, Ruby,” Emma greeted and smiled. 

“Is that seat taken?” Ruby asked, nodding towards the empty chair opposite Emma. 

“No, you’re welcome to sit down,” Emma said and smiled again. That was nice of Ruby. Sitting with one of the younger students who otherwise would have had breakfast alone.

“Thanks,” Ruby said briskly and sat down. “You ready to sing in a moment?”

“Yes, I think so,” Emma nodded. “It’s a difficult piece though.”

“You’ll soon get the hang of it,” Ruby said encouragingly and took a bite of her toast.

“I hope so.” Emma readjusted her glasses slightly and looked down to inspect her hands. Her nail polish was starting to chip slightly. She would have to do something about that today. She hated wearing chipped nail polish.

“Not hungry?” Ruby asked and interrupted Emma’s silly musings about nail polish.

“Oh,” Emma looked down at her full plate. “No, not really.”

“Do you feel sick?” Ruby asked and raised an eyebrow slightly. “You look a bit pale to be honest.”

“I didn’t sleep too well last night,” Emma admitted.

“Oh. Was something wrong?”

“No. Not really.”

“Not really?” Ruby pressed and gave Emma her full attention now. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking,” Emma told her and felt how she flushed slightly. Maybe it was a bad idea to talk to Ruby about this. Christine had been her best friend.

“About what?” Ruby asked sympathetically. “Home sick?”

“No, it’s not that. I was actually thinking about....”

Ruby raised an eyebrow again when Emma didn’t continue. “Yes?”

“’The Phantom of the opera’”,” Emma whispered and felt ashamed for bringing this up.

“Oh,” Ruby nodded, still understanding. “I get it. It’s a bit of a ghost story. I’m sorry we told you about it. We probably shouldn’t have. It was dumb.”

“How did it start?” Emma asked and winced when she realized that she’d just brushed Ruby’s apology away. 

“How did what start?” the older brunette asked and put her fork down. 

“The thing about Christine and the....and the ‘Phantom’.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow and looked as though she was impressed by Emma’s curiosity. “I’m not sure actually. The choir was pretty busy with rehearsing and everything, but one day I suddenly noticed that   
Christine was acting a bit... weird. A bit withdrawn, you know?”

Emma nodded. 

“I asked her about it,” Ruby continued. “And she told me that she had sensed something in her room. A presence of sorts.”

“A presence? What sort of presence? Man or woman?”

“She never said that,” Ruby said with a headshake. “Just a presence. It wasn’t until a bit later she started referring to it as an “Angel of music”.” 

“Because this “presence” taught her to sing,” Emma nodded.

“Yeah. And because- and this is what Christine said- this “someone” had the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard. Angelic. Maybe even-“

“Ethereal,” Emma finished the sentence. 

“Yeah. That’s pretty much what Christine said,” Ruby said surprised. 

Emma licked her lips. She desperately tried not to jump any conclusions here, but it sounded very much like she and Christine had been visited by the same “presence”...

“Emma, is everything okay?” Ruby asked plainly. “How come you’re suddenly asking about this?”

Emma shrugged. “Just curious, I suppose.”

“Okay,” Ruby said and raised an eyebrow as though she didn’t really believe Emma. She leaned slightly forward as she continued: “but you heard what Malena said, right? The catacombs were searched when they found Christine’s body in the lake. And they never found anything or anyone down there.” 

Emma tipped her chin slightly. “But you don’t believe that Christine’s death was an accident, do you?”

Ruby sighed. “There are so many theories about what happened to Christine. I only know what she told me.”

“That she had been visited by an angel of music who taught her to sing.”

“Right.”

“But...” Emma shook her head a little. “How can you even believe that? I mean, it sounds-“

“You’re right, it does,” Ruby interrupted and nodded. “But I knew Christine. Maybe she was a bit of a dreamer, but she never made things up or lied. And she definitely wasn’t hallucinating. Or suicidal.” Her eyes gleamed with anger now. “Christine loved life. “She loved her friends and she loved to sing. And she always went on about how she had to keep on living for her dad. To make him proud. Does that sound like a suicidal girl to you?”

“No,” Emma said quietly. “It doesn’t.” 

“Something happened in the catacombs that night,” Ruby continued. Her voice was stronger now. “Someone did something to Christine. I don’t know who or why, but I swear to god, if I ever find out....” her mouth twisted. “I miss her so much every day.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said hastily. “I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

“It’s okay,” Ruby said and offered a smile. “It’s actually kind of nice to talk about Christine. Most people don’t wanna talk about her or what happened. It’s become taboo.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Emma said quietly. 

“You’re right. It shouldn’t,” Ruby agreed and lifted her cup of tea. “Cheers, Emma.”

“Cheers,” Emma said a bit shyly as she raised her own cup of tea and clinked it with Ruby’s.

Ruby gave her a bit of a funny look after having sat her cup of tea down. “Don’t go poking around, okay?”

“Poking around?” Emma echoed and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t go and look for this ‘Phantom of the opera’,” Ruby said plainly. 

Emma’s eyebrow rose now. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I know that look in your eyes,” Ruby said, smiling briefly before going serious again. “I can see that you’re curious.” 

“I’m not,” Emma did her best to deny even though she was.

“You are,” Ruby said and chuckled a little. “And you’re not the first one, trust me. Many students who heard the story of the ‘Phantom’ of the opera has tried to find evidence for this....’something’s’   
existence, but no one has ever found anything.”

Emma considered for a moment before asking: “did you ever try? To find evidence, I mean.”

“Of course I did,” Ruby openly admitted. “Christine was my best friend, and she didn’t drown herself. Nor did she just suddenly keel over and died. Someone did something to her, so yeah, obviously I tried to figure out what the fuck had happened. I even tried to find a way to the catacombs.”

“But you couldn’t?” Emma guessed. 

“Nope. Did my best though. Because I didn’t understand how Christine got down there. I still don’t. But anyway, I was busted by Mal for running around in the corridors at night, so obviously I had to stop what I was doing.” Ruby gave a short laugh.

Emma took a mouthful of tea and coughed slightly as she swallowed the too hot beverage.

“You alright?” Ruby asked and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m fine,” Emma croaked and sat the cup of tea down. She fidgeted slightly with her napkin in her lap. “What did it look like?”

“What did what look like?” 

“This... Angel of music,” Emma said and choked a little on the word “angel.”

“Oh, I.... I don’t know, actually,” Ruby said and frowned. “Christine never told me.”

“Do you know why?”

Ruby shrugged. “Not really. Maybe she wasn’t allowed or something. According to her, the Angel of Music was very “strict”.”

“She said that?”

“Sure did.”

“Huh.” Emma fiddled with her napkin again, and her throat felt dry as she asked her next question: “wasn’t... I mean, didn’t Christine ever get afraid?”

“No,” Ruby said immediately. “If there was something she wasn’t, it was afraid. She was more like....”

“Like what?” Emma said eagerly, knowing full well that she was pushing now, but found herself unable to stop. 

“Bewitched,” Ruby said after a moment. 

“Bewitched?” Emma repeated. 

“Yeah,” Ruby nodded. “It was like... I couldn’t really reach her during that time. She wasn’t...Well, obviously, she was ‘around’, but at the same time, not really. It was like she was desperate to get away from rehearsals and everything, and I constantly caught her humming these strange melodies I’d never heard before.” The older brunette sighed. “Like I said, I couldn’t reach her. And she wouldn’t tell me. But she kept telling me not to worry about her. Yeah right. Look what happened to her.” Ruby bitterly ended her little speech and took a sip of her tea. 

“I’m really sorry,” Emma said and felt tempted to reach out and pat Ruby’s hand, but she didn’t quite dare. 

“Yeah, me too,” Ruby said quietly. She pushed the food around on her plate with her fork without saying anything for a moment. 

Emma felt guilty. She had pushed Ruby into talking about something painful. That was not okay. She had opened her mouth and was just about to say something apologetic when Ruby spoke again: 

“Nothing has happened since the chandelier came crashing down after Christine’s death, and if you ask me, that was a warning.”

“A w-warning?” Emma repeated and felt her mouth going dry.

“Yeah. About not to go poking around like Christine did,” Ruby sighed. “My guess is that she came too close. I don’t know to what, but something happened that night in the catacombs.”

Emma could think of nothing to say to that chilling statement, and so she settled for eating her breakfast like Ruby. Or, trying to. Her heart was racing in her chest and her thoughts were all over the place.   
She could feel that the goosebumps had erupted on her skin once more. Should she tell Ruby about her experiences or not? 

Emma glanced discreetly at Ruby. She was frowning and looked pretty affected by telling all of this. No, Emma decided. She wasn’t gonna tell Ruby. It didn’t really seem fair. And maybe she wouldn’t even believe Emma. Maybe she would think that Emma was making it up because of the story she’d just heard. Maybe Ruby would get angry. And Emma didn’t really have any actual evidence to back up her story. It was better to keep her mouth shut about it. 

So they continued their breakfast and talked about random things. Like the rehearsal and upcoming concert for the teachers and parents in a few months. 

“You nervous?” Ruby asked and flashed Emma a smile. 

“Yeah, I am,” Emma said with a nod. “I’m afraid of messing up.”

“So was I when I first came here,” Ruby said. “But guess what? I never did. And neither will you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Emma said and did her best to laugh and ignore the flicker of anxiety. 

“You just have to believe in yourself, Emma,” Ruby said softly. “Your voice is fantastic.”

Emma smiled at the compliment. She knew that her voice was good, but she also knew that it could be terribly unsteady and wobbly if she got nervous. And that was what she feared would happen during the concert.”

Ruby reached over and gave her hand a little pat. “You’ll be okay, Em. Just trust yourself.”

“Yeah.” Just trust herself. Trust her abilities. Trust her voice. Why was that so hard? Why couldn’t she just-

“We better get a move on,” Ruby interrupted her train of thoughts. “Otherwise we’ll be late.” She jumped up from her chair. “You coming?” 

“Yeah,” Emma said and pushed her plate away and stood from her chair. She had actually managed to get a bit of breakfast, and she felt sort of ready for the rehearsal. If she could keep her thoughts from   
spiraling, that was. 

She followed Ruby out of the canteen and through the corridors to the large hall where they always met up with either Mal or Mme. Carlotta. Today it just so happened to be Mal. And she hated if you were late, so Ruby and Emma were hurrying. Emma in particular. And for the second time in her life she almost collided with Mr. Gold. 

“Oh!” she yelped and took a step backwards. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Gold!”

The elderly man chuckled richly and clutched at his cane as he elegantly avoided the collision. “It’s no matter, miss Swan. Don’t ever apologize for being an eager student.”

Emma smiled at him, and Ruby clearly tried not to laugh as she said: “come on, Em. We’re gonna be late!”

They said goodbye to Mr. Gold and then rushed into the large hall where most of the other members of the choirs had gathered. 

Malena was there too, and she had a surprise for them. When everyone was gathered, she told them: “today we’ll be rehearsing on the Big Scene. It’s about time you get used to it.”

An excited mutter erupted, and Emma so wished she could share that excitement. But she couldn’t not completely.

It didn’t exactly get better when they made it to the Big Scene. Emma gathered with everyone else and found her preferred spot in the back row. And she sang along with everyone else like she was supposed to. But her heart nor mind wasn’t in it. Her mouth completely took over the singing, but her eyes were fixated on box five. She kept imagining that she saw something. A shadow. A movement. 

Just something. Her mind was playing tricks on her, deep down she knew that, but she couldn’t stop looking, looking, looking....

“Hey,” Lily gave her arm a soft squeeze. 

Emma blinked and turned her head. 

“Everything okay?” Lily mouthed. 

Emma nodded mutely and tried to look like she meant it. “Just distracted,” she mouthed back. 

Malena cleared her throat and spoke over the rest of the choir’s singing: “less talking more singing, girls.”

Emma and Lily chuckled slightly, and Lily winked at her before she resumed singing. 

Emma did the same. Sang like she was supposed to. What she was here to do. But box five stole her attention, and Emma stopped pretending that she wasn’t looking at box five. Her eyes fixated on that   
exact spot once again, and she was sure she could feel a sudden chill run through her body. Was there someone up there right now? Someone ducking down and hiding behind the chairs? Someone watching them as they sang? Emma had the strongest urge to run up there and check behind the chairs. Maybe she would find someone. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she would find more dropped feathers on the floor. 

All the little hairs in the back of Emma’s neck where standing on edge again. She felt nervous even though she didn’t really have a reason to be. She should stop. Stop thinking about this....Phantom of the opera...........

Another hard day was coming to an end. Emma had prolonged this for as long as she possibly could, but once Lily said that she better had to get some sleep, Emma had no choice but to say goodnight and leave her friend’s room. Lily had asked if she wanted to sleep in her room again, but Emma had declined. She couldn’t do that. She had made up some lie that the heater in her room had been fixed already, so it would seem weird if she slept another night in Lily’s room. Ergo, she had to get back to her own room. She sort of wanted to proof to herself that she could do this. Sleep in her room without being afraid. She would just have to curl up, tug the duvet over her head and hope that nothing would happen tonight. God, she hoped that nothing would happen tonight!

Emma felt very on edge as she stepped into her room, and the door closing behind her reminded her of a sound of doom or something. She looked around in the room with watchful eyes. Nothing. Quiet. 

She strained her ears and listened intensely. Nothing. Quiet. That should have been a good thing, but for some reason she found it to be eerie. The room was eerie. She felt like she was being watched even though the room was empty. 

“Hello?” she quietly called and regretted it immediately. Calling into an empty room was eerie too. 

Emma shuffled away from the door and looked at her face in the mirror. Wide, scared green eyes looked back at her. Her cheeks were pale, and her lips slightly parted as though she was just waiting to let out a scream. Emma took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She was okay. She was fine. And she could definitely spend the night in her room without being afraid. She would even break her rule and sleep with her headphones on if necessary. Drown any possible voices in the sound of music. Another deep breath. Emma turned her back on her reflection and walked back over to the dresser where she found a white nightgown. A bit much for sleeping in, but she didn’t have the energy to find something else. She felt like she had been on edge all day, and despite all the scary factors, she was actually looking forward to lying down. Maybe, just maybe she cold get some rest tonight. 

Emma quickly changed out of her clothes and into the nightgown. Her hair was loosened from the ponytail and fell down to her waist. She gave it a quick brushing and then twisted it into a quick side braid. There. She was ready for sleep. There was literally nothing else she could do to postpone going to bed. Armed with her phone and headphones she went over to the bed and after a moment’s hesitation, she climbed up. The bed still felt like her bed. Good. Emma tried not to think of the girl who’d once slept in this bed. Christine. What had she felt when she laid in this bed? Couldn’t she sleep either? Did she feel like she was being watched like Emma did right now? Emma thought of what Ruby had said. That Christine hadn’t been afraid. How could she not? How could someone feel a presence and not be afraid?! It didn’t make sense at all. 

Emma rolled onto her side, so she was facing the door instead. That was the position she was gonna sleep in tonight. So she could jump out of the bed and run towards the door at any given moment. She swallowed something and considered it. Should she have told Ruby anyway? That something felt off? That she’d heard something last night? Perhaps Ruby would have believed her, but Emma had a feeling that the choir dormitory was like a little community. If one person knew, someone else was bound to find out. And then someone else. And someone else. The rumor would spread like wild fire, and before she knew of it, Emma would be branded as “the weird girl”. The girl who heard things. The girl who couldn’t let the myth of “The Phantom of the opera” rest. The girl who blew new life into the rumors about Christine Daaé. That was about the last thing Emma wanted. Starting to talk about the “Phantom” didn’t exactly add up with her plan about keeping her head down and only focusing on singing. No. 

She shouldn’t tell Ruby. Not unless she had some actual proof that something was going on. And Emma sort of hoped that she wouldn’t get any proof. Because if a proof turned up.... It would mean that what was happening, what she’d experienced was in fact real. Emma shivered under the duvets. Adjusted. Forced herself to remain in the position she was currently in. Fought the urge to sit up and switch the light on just to check. She knew herself. She knew that if she switched the lights on once, she would continue to do so throughout the night. Rile herself up with paranoia and then switch the light on to check the room Just. One. More. Time. She couldn’t allow herself to play that stupid game. She would be exhausted in the morning. 

Emma swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the massive lump forming in her throat. She refused to cry like a baby. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. She could handle this. She wasn’t completely sure how, but she could. She would. She took another deep breath and stretched her leg just a little bit. This reminded her of when she was a little kid and was afraid of sleeping with her feet hanging out because she was sure a monster would emerge from under the bed and grab her. 

She shook her head firmly under the duvet and tried to relax her muscles. There were no monsters under the bed. That was ridiculous. Emma made an effort to breathe the air all the way into her stomach. In through her nose and out through the mouth. Good old method. It had never failed her before, and Emma chose to believe that it wouldn’t tonight either. In and out, in and out, until her eyelids began to droop, and her body started to get heavy. A grateful little sigh escaped her. Her head was buried under the duvet, and she felt strangely safe as she finally surrendered to the sleep, she so desperately needed........

Emma woke. Completely disorientated and woozy. She cracked one eye open but could see nothing but blackness. Her head was still buried under the duvet. That was one reason for the blackness. The other one was the fact that it was still dark. Most likely the middle of the night. Why was she awake? 

Wait........

Emma froze when a sound reached her ear. A sound that was entirely too close. Her throat dried up and threatened to constrict completely when the frightening reality dawned upon her. There was someone in her room. That was why she had woken up. Every muscle in her body tensed up, and it felt like her heart was in her throat. She could hear her pulse hammering in her hear, and she could feel it throb away somewhere in her neck. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. This was definitely not fantasy or a dream. Someone was definitely in her room. Emma could hear them as they moved around in her room. She was so scared she could have whimpered, but she forced herself to breathe slowly as though she was still asleep. Her body was wound so tight she couldn’t move a muscle even if she wanted to. What could she even do? She was paralyzed with fear. Numb all over. She couldn’t even scream. It felt like her voice was stuck in her throat somehow. She tried to think about hot cocoa with cinnamon as she heard the person quietly walk around in her room. What were they doing? Watching her sleep? She swallowed again and strained her ears. She could hear the sound of the other person breathing. Slowly. Gently. Clearly trying to be as quiet as possible. It had to be a woman. However ridiculous it seemed, the breathing sounded like how a woman would breathe. There was a woman in her room. Maybe that should have been soothing or something, because rather a woman than a man, right? But Emma didn’t feel the least bit soothed. Because that eerie singing and chilling laughter she’d heard last night was suddenly echoing in her head. It had to be the same woman. The woman who’d sung and then mocked her by laughing was currently in her room. Emma’s heart thudded almost painfully in her chest. It felt like it was worming it’s way up through her throat. She still couldn’t scream. All she could do was lie here and play dead while this....woman was in her room. But what was she doing? Why was she here? 

Emma didn’t quite know how she mustered up the courage to do so, but she managed to crack one eye open. She blinked a couple of times to adjust to the blackness around her, and then she made a very, very slight and barely there shift. That shift meant that there now was a teeny tiny space between the duvet and mattress. A tiny crack she could see through. Emma bit her lip harshly as she peered through the crack. She could see mostly blackness. At least for a moment. Once her eyes had adjusted properly to the darkness, she could also see something else. The silhouette of a woman standing with her back to her near her dresser. It was impossible to work out her features. The faint contours only told Emma that it was a woman, and that she was tall. And clearly wearing something black. A dress of sorts. Emma blinked in an attempt to get her brain to accept what she was seeing. A woman. A strange woman standing in her room. Emma so wished she had been capable of sitting up, switching on the lights and ask what the hell she was doing. But she was too scared. 

Suddenly, the woman turned around, and Emma immediately squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart, which seemed to have oddly slowed down when observing the woman, started thumbing again, and Emma bit her lip until she could taste blood. She could hear the woman walking around again. Something rustled. Like the skirt of a dress being dragged across the floor. Emma fought to make her breathing sound like she was still asleep. The woman was coming closer to her. Emma could hear it. She... oh god, she was standing directly by Emma’s bed now! Towering above her and watching her sleep. Emma could feel the hot tears burn under her eyelids and sweat was trickling down her back. She could hear the woman breathing somewhere above her, and she could smell.... apples. The fear was replaced with surprise for a moment. The smell of apples and spice filled her nostrils, and for some reason, Emma’s overtired brain recognized this as something calming and not something she should be afraid of. The smell was intoxicating. Emma couldn’t remember the last time had smelled so wonderful and tempting. How could a smell so nice be tied to something so dangerous? It just couldn’t be. Suddenly it became a bit easier to breathe. The tears in her eyes dried, and unbridled curiosity filled Emma’s mind. Fear took a backseat as she discreetly inhaled in an attempt to breathe in the smell of apples. 

That was when she realized that she couldn’t hear anything anymore. Only her own breathing. She didn’t dare opening her eyes to check, but she was certain that the woman was gone. Emma took a full breath and the air almost exploded out of her lungs. Gone. Yes. The woman was gone. But how? How did she get out of here? And more importantly, how did she get IN? Not through the door, that was impossible. The door was creaking. The sound would surely have woken her. Emma was not a heavy sleeper at all.

Emma wanted to sit up. She wanted to switch the lights on and have a good look around in her room. But she couldn’t find the strength to move an inch. Now that the danger was over, the relief made her body feel completely heavy. Her bones had been replaced with jelly. She knew that she probably should sit up and look around. She knew that that was the only sensible thing to do in this situation. Sit up.   
Look around. Alert Malena and tell her that someone had just been in her room. 

But none of that happened. The only thing happening was Emma’s head falling back against the pillow and her hand growing limp as she once again surrendered herself to exhaustion....

When Emma woke up the next morning, her brain made a naïve attempt at convincing her that what happened last night had been a dream, but it didn’t take long before she dismissed that. No way, it had been a dream. It had been real. Very, very real!

Emma sat up in bed and swung her legs over the edge. Looked around in the room to see if anything had been touched or taken. But her room looked exactly the same. Well, except for....

Emma hopped out of bed and stumbled slightly in her eagerness to get to her dresser. The third drawer was cracked open just a little bit. Not much. It certainly wasn’t anything she would have noticed if she hadn’t woken up last night. She crouched down and opened the drawer the rest of the way. It was odd, really. She knew what she had left in that drawer. She already knew what would be missing from that drawer, and so she wasn’t surprised when she found it empty. The two black feathers were missing. They had been there yesterday, and now they were gone. An actual proof. If only she had told someone about the feathers. 

But it wasn’t just the third drawer that was cracked open a bit. The bottom drawer was too, and that was really something that gave Emma pause. Because that drawer had been locked when she had tried to open it to stuff her socks inside it. She remembered it had annoyed her that she had to put her socks next to her underwear instead of in a drawer of their own. She had meant to ask Malena to find the key to the drawer, but she had kept forgetting it because she was so busy with rehearsing and settling in. And now the drawer was cracked open. Meaning that someone had had a key. Emma bit her lip as she opened the drawer the rest of the way. It was empty. Of course it was. She hadn’t expected anything else. And she was also certain that that drawer hadn’t been empty when locked. The woman who had been in her room last night had taken something. 

“What did you take?” Emma quietly asked the empty room. “What was in that drawer?”

Of course no one answered her. 

Emma looked at the two now empty drawers. “How did you get out?” she asked just as quietly. “How did you get IN?”

Again, there was no answer. And Emma was equally relieved and disappointed at the lack of response. She carefully closed the bottom drawer but kept the third drawer open as she looked at the empty space. Had there been any doubt left in her mind, it was definitely vanishing now. She was certain. Someone had been in her room last night. Someone had come to take something back. Something she didn’t want anybody else to find. And the feathers. Perhaps the woman had taken those as an afterthought. A way to cover her tracks or something. 

Emma carefully closed the drawer and rose from her crouching position. She looked around in the room. The thought alone seemed impossible, but she was so sure. She had been visited by Christine’s Phantom of the Opera last night. Christine’s Angel of Music........

To Be Continued.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come to me, strange Angel...


	8. That Voice Which Calls To Me

Ever since the nightly visit from “the Ghost” Emma had been battling this odd curiosity. And she didn’t quite understand why. She should be absolutely terrified. Someone had been in her room, for crying out loud! She should have freaked out and demanded to get another room asap. 

But instead of being scared, she was just.... curious. She wanted to know more about this mysterious “ghost” and her ability to “walk through walls”. Emma had been over it a million times, but she still hadn’t been able to figure out how the ghost had come into her room. Or out for that matter. She had tested the door several times, and yep, it creaked loud enough to wake the dead. An excellent way to alert the adults that the students were out of bed at night, but not very good if you were a ghost who preferred to creep around. And there was another mystery that currently drove Emma crazy. She called it the case of the locked drawer. There had been something in that drawer. Something important. Something the ghost didn’t want her to find. But what? What could possibly have been in that drawer? And the key... the missing key. Had it been hiding somewhere in the room all along? If that was the case, the ‘Phantom’ had to know exactly where it was. Or maybe the ‘Phantom’ had taken the key at some other point. Which meant that she had been in Emma’s room before. The room that had once been Christine’s. The drawer had once been Christine’s. Whatever had been locked away in the drawer, had to be something belonging to Christine. Something the ‘Phantom’ didn’t want Emma to find. Something incriminating? Something this ghost didn’t want out in the open? Emma cursed herself for not making a bigger effort to ask for a duplicate key to the drawer. Had she gotten to the drawer first, maybe she could have found something crucial. Some kind of evidence that could solve the mystery about Christine’s death and ‘the Phantom of the opera’.

And obviously, it was idiotic to think like that. A young girl had been killed, and here Emma was, thinking that she should go ghost hunting all by herself. She should tell someone what was going on. The voice, the nightly visit, everything. But for some reason.... She didn’t want to. This was her secret. And she didn’t want to be outed as “the weird girl who heard voices”. And besides, nothing had happened to her. She was fine. The ghost had done nothing to harm her, and as long as that was the case, why make a fuss? Yes, the two black feathers were gone, but she hadn’t told anyone about their existence to begin with, and she couldn’t actually prove that there had been anything in that locked drawer. Emma was sure no one would believe her. And she would probably get in trouble for spreading rumors and panic about “the Phantom of the opera”. It was better to keep quiet until she actually had something to tell. Actual proof she was holding in her hand. 

In the meantime, she did her best to focus on her singing and pretend that everything was fine, and she definitely wasn’t investigating an old mystery. And a Phantom of the opera. No, of course she was not. 

Emma scooped up the last bit of meatloaf and carefully chewed. She’d been busy today. Like she always was. But at least she was sleeping better at night. There had been no more nightly visits since, and Emma was almost disappointed. However weird it sounded. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to see a glimpse of the woman’s face, and that was what disappointed her. She should be scared, but here she was, disappointed instead. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with her. Why else wish for a second chance to see this mysterious “ghost”? because that was exactly what Emma wanted. Another chance. An opportunity to get a good look at this woman’s face. She cursed herself for having frozen the last time. Obviously, she wouldn’t have shoved the covers aside and asked the woman what the hell she was doing in her room, but she could have eased the covers a little. The ‘Phantom’ wouldn’t have noticed. She had seemed far too busy with roaming the drawers. 

Emma took a gulp of her water and wetted her lips. She was thinking far too much about this, but she couldn’t let it go. The mystery had taken hold of her. Like one of the mystery books she so favored. Only difference was that this was actually real. And that was what should have made it scary. That was what should have made Emma back away and refuse to think about it ever again. But there was just something about it that made Emma want to know more. How could a young girl be murdered at the Opera Garnier without the murder ever being solved? If some woman really had been hiding in the catacombs, then how come no one had ever found her? She couldn’t just vanish in thin air. She had to have hid somewhere. But where? How did she even get around? How had she gotten into Emma’s room? There were so many questions, but this particular question was the one that made Emma’s head creak. She knew with two hundred percent that she hadn’t imagined that woman in her room, the missing feathers and the unlocked drawer was a proof of that. She hadn’t come through the creaking door. And there wasn’t a secret hatch in the bedroom floor either. She had actually checked that. And felt silly whilst walking up and down the bedroom floor and stomping her feet to try and see if there could be a hidden hatch somewhere. She had even moved the carpet out of the way and crouched down to check under the bed. And to add to the silliness, she had shoved the heavy dresser out of the way (and nearly dislocated her shoulder in the process) to check underneath that one as well. 

Obviously, there hadn’t been a hatch underneath it. Emma hadn’t really expected that, but she was still left feeling slightly disappointed. And she had been red faced when Ruby knocked on her door and asked her what she was doing because of all that noise. Emma had been truthful. Sort of. She had said that she was moving furniture’s. She had felt a bit dumb afterwards. What was she even doing, crawling around on the floor to check for hatches? That was ridiculous. Maybe she was going crazy. But she wanted to crack this mystery, and she was prepared to check every single opportunity. No matter how silly they were. 

Emma took another sip of her water and looked around in the canteen. The room was filled with laughter and chit chat and choir members eating dinner. So unconcerned. Emma glanced around again. 

Could the Phantom be watching them at this very moment? Had the Phantom also been watching Christine? Emma rubbed her arms a little and uncurled her shoulders. She really needed to relax. Maybe have some more dinner. She had a feeling she had been eating too little during the last week. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, she had also talked to her mom today. Which obviously wasn’t a bad thing, of course not, but the reason for her mom’s phone call had made Emma feel a bit down in the dumps. Today marked the anniversary for her grandmother Eva’s death. Five years to be precise. Emma remembered it like it had been yesterday. She had been very close to her grandmother. Eva was the person Emma came to on those rare occasions when her parents had been unreasonable. Eva had been the person Emma headed over to when coming home from school. Eva had always been there to listen. She never dismissed Emma. Not once. And she had been a wonderful singer. Emma had inherited her voice from her grandmother. That was what Emma’s mom proudly said. There existed some old recordings of Eva singing, and every time Emma listened to them, it was like hearing herself. That was how similar her voice was to Eva’s. 

Emma sighed and pushed her plate of food away. She didn’t feel hungry anymore. She felt tired. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw her grandmother. Eva had been beautiful. Even as an elderly woman. It might have been five years since she died, but Emma still missed her. And right now she missed her home. They would always light candles for her grandmother. Sit around the fireplace and tell stories about her. Emma loved hearing stories from her grandmother’s youth. Eva had been a free spirit. She had gone her own ways. Traveled around and sung for various audiences. Had seen and experienced so many things. In the she had met Emma’s grandfather, Leopold and fallen head over heels. Eva had told the story of how she had met him many, many times, but Emma had never once gotten tired of hearing the story. Leopold had been among the audience. He had been sitting in the front row, and Emma’s grandmother had immediately seen him. They had looked at each other while she sang, and afterwards, he had waited for her by the door. It had been love at first sight. That was what Eva always had said, and Emma chose to believe that. She chose to believe that meeting like that, love at first sight really was possible. 

Emma sighed. Her appetite was completely gone, and she felt flat. Like she always did when the anniversary for her grandmother’s death rolled around. She never felt enthusiastic about anything on the anniversary for her grandmother’s death. Not even about singing. Her voice had sounded bland all day. Emma yearned for the moment where she could go to bed and sleep the rest of this hard day away. It would be better tomorrow. It always did. 

“You look down in the dumps.”

Was it impolite? Yes, maybe. But Emma didn’t have the energy to correct Lily. Because she was absolutely right. “That’s because I am,” she told her brunette friend. 

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked as she sat down in the empty chair across Emma. 

“Today is the anniversary of my grandmother’s death,” Emma said quietly. 

“Oh,” Lily said, leaning forward so she could touch Emma’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I was pretty close to her, so this date is always a little extra hard.”

“I get it,” Lily nodded. “I lost my dad in an accident when I was just four. My mom doesn’t think that I can remember him, but I can. And that kinda just makes it harder, you know?”

“I understand,” Emma said. “I mean, of course it does get easier to cope with, but it’s still... difficult.”

“Of course it is.”

“And especially this year,” Emma continued. “Me and my parents always lights candles during the evening, and then we just... sit and talk about her.”

“That sounds really nice,” Lily smiled. 

“I suppose I’m upset that I can’t be that way this year because I’m not at home.”

“Maybe it can,” Lily said.

Emma raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“There’s actually a kind of crypt here,” Lily explained. “Mr. Gold had it made when his wife died. It’s meant to be a place where you can light candles and remember those who aren’t here anymore.”

“That sounds perfect,” Emma said softly.

Lily flashed her a slight smile. “If you’d like, I could show you the place after dinner?”

“I’d like that very much,” Emma said and returned the smile. “Thank you so much, Lily.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Lily said lightly as she gave Emma’s hand a little squeeze. “Are you already done eating?”

Emma glanced at her dinner. The meatloaf had probably gone cold by now, but she should still try and eat at least a little bit. She scooped up a forkful and stuffed it inside her mouth. Yep. Cold. But   
actually still pretty good....

Lily kept her word. After dinner, she took Emma to the crypt. They had to go down many, many stairs. The air gradually became colder, and the lights dimmed the further down they got. Everything looked a bit rougher here. The walls included. They looked like they were made of raw stone. Emma suspected that they almost were in basement level, and she shivered slightly and regretted that she hadn’t put a sweater on. Or just changed out of her white chorus dress. She wasn’t actually meant to wear it right now. Only when they were rehearsing. She would change out of it first thing when she returned to her room.

Lily abruptly stopped in front of a heavy looking door, and Emma almost stumbled when she too had no choice but to stop abruptly in order to not knock Lily over. “Oops!”

“Oh, sorry,” Lily half-chuckled as she reached out as though she wanted to support Emma. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Emma assured as she clumsily regained her balance and purposefully missed the hand being stretched out towards her. “No harm done.” Luckily. She wouldn’t wanna fall on this floor. The hard   
stone floor looked like it could do some serious damage.

“Awesome,” Lily said and turned her head to smile at Emma. Then she looked back at the heavy looking door. “This is it,” she announced. 

“Thank you for showing me,” Emma said gratefully. “It wouldn’t have felt right if I couldn’t light a candle for my grandmother.” Her voice broke the littlest bit as she thought of her grandmother again. And her mom. Emma knew that she wouldn’t be feeling very good today either, but Emma’s dad would be there to help her get through this hard day. That at least warmed Emma’s heart a little. Her mom   
wasn’t completely alone.

“No problem,” Lily smiled and pushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to wait for you or something?” 

“Oh,” Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “No, that’s okay. I’ll probably be here for a little while.”

“Okay but try not to spend hours down here. It tends to get pretty cold.”

Emma chuckled lightly. “I’ll remember that.”

“Think you can find your way back?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Otherwise I’ll have to come and find you,” Lily joked and nodded towards the door. “Go on.” 

“Thanks. See you later.”

“Yeah. Maybe we could hang out in my room?” Lily suggested. 

Emma nodded lightly. “Yes. That sounds nice.”

Lily smiled now, and Emma felt a hint of guilty conscience. She wasn’t supposed to give Lily false hope. That wasn’t a nice thing to do. Instead of saying anything else and potentially make things worse, she just settled for smiling at Lily and then putting a hand on the doorknob and pushing the door open. As she went in, she heard Lily turn around and walk back towards the many flights of stairs. 

Emma looked around in the room. It was beautiful down here. Little tinted windows and a window bench. And candles. So many candles. Big ones, small ones. Tea lights. Beautiful candle sticks. A place for remembrance exactly like Lily had told her. There was a little box of matches laying on one of the tables, and Emma took and slid it open to find one of the matches so she could light a candle for her beloved grandmother. 

It was when she looked up, she noticed it. The big, framed picture hanging on the wall. Emma tilted her head slightly as she looked at the picture of the young blonde woman smiling widely at the camera. Her eyes were a perfect blue, and her golden hair was hanging in loose curls spilling down her back. She was wearing one of the white choir dresses that looked exactly like the one Emma was wearing tonight. Underneath the framed picture, a thick, cream colored paper had been glued to the wall, and Emma immediately recognized Malena’s elegant handwriting: ‘To our friend, Christine Daaé, 15th of April 1999- July 19th, 2017. The music will continue forever.’

Emma’s throat constricted all the sudden, and she didn’t quite understand why. She hadn’t even know Christine. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been older than Emma when she died. Maybe it was the knowledge that the smiling young woman in the picture who looked so full of life had been murdered. Found drowned in the catacombs. Emma shivered. Or maybe it was just this day. This terrible, hard day which rolled around every year but somehow still knocked her over with grief when it arrived. 

Emma shivered and tore her gaze away from the smiling young woman. She was here to light a candle for her grandmother. Not think about Christine and what had happened to her. She walked over to one of the little tealights and drew a match. “I miss you,” she whispered softly as she lit the candles. “I still miss you, grandma.” She sighed a little as she looked at the candle and how it flickered. The picture of Christine made her wish she had brought a picture of her grandmother. That could have been nice. Emma absentmindedly glanced back at the picture of Christine, glanced at the large candlestick that had been placed underneath the picture. That was when she noticed. The wick was reeking. Emma turned her back on the candle she had lit for her grandmother and shuffled closer to the large candlestick underneath Christine’s picture. But coming closer only made her completely sure. The wick was definitely reeking as though someone had blown out the flame quite recently. She could see the white smoke reeking from it.

Emma hesitantly lifted a hand and touched the wick. Ouch! Still warm too. Emma blew cold air on her burned fingertips. Someone had definitely blown out that candle very, very recently. But who? Ruby? No, she had been eating dinner with Belle by the time Emma and Lily had left the canteen. There was no way she could have made it down here before them. Emma thoughtfully blew cold air on her fingertips again. That candle had to have been blown out mere seconds before she came in here. And it couldn’t have been by Ruby or Malena or anyone else for that matter. There was only one door in this room. The door Emma had came in through. She doubted that either Ruby or Malena or anyone else were able to walk through walls. Emma foolishly turned around and scanned the room. Obviously, she saw no one. Except for her reflection in the mirror. Of course she was alone. Something slithered down her spine. This wasn’t exactly her first encounter with someone who could “walk through walls”. 

Her palms felt a bit clammy again, and she had to wipe them on her dress as she turned around and looked back up at the picture of Christine. 

“What sort of secrets did you have?” she quietly asked the picture. “What happened that night in the catacombs?” she sighed as she studied Christine’s smiling face. “Why is it that everything somehow leads back to you? Why are you all I hear about, all I stumble upon?”

Christine remained silent. Of course. 

Emma exhaled deeply and shook her head. Nothing about Christine Daaé’s mysterious death seemed to make sense. For the millionth time, Emma wondered what the heck had happened that night. What had prompted Christine to disappear on the night of her great solo? Had she gone to the catacombs on her own, or had she been taken there by someone? Why had her murder never been solved? Had there even been done enough to solve it? And more importantly, why was Emma so fascinated by the events? She looked into Christine’s blue eyes as though she had all the answers. Well, she had had all the answers. Every aspect of this mystery began and ended with Christine Daaé. And then someone had killed her. Someone had silenced her. Someone had ensured that her secrets would stay hidden. But who could have been so desperate? Who could be capable of killing an eighteen year old girl? And why? What was it that Christine had known? What secret was so terrible that someone was willing to kill to ensure it stayed like that. A secret. Emma’s head was almost creaking. It was like she had all these different puzzle pieces, but none of them seemed to fit anywhere. Emma had never been much of a detective, but right now, she wished that she had been better at making sense of it all. Like Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot or one of the other detectives she so loved to read about. If only she knew exactly how to make “the little grey cells” work.

“Christine,” she quietly murmured to herself and shook her head again. “Christine, Christine.”

‘Chri-stine......’

Emma froze on the spot. That voice. That velvet soft woman’s voice that seemingly came from nowhere and at the same time from everywhere. A whisper in her ear as though the owner of the voice had been standing right next to her. That voice she had heard twice now. She should run. She should run like hell and alert everyone. That would be the only sensible thing to do. And yet she remained rooted to the spot. Found her voice and quietly called: “hello? Is someone there?” 

No answer. 

Emma licked her lips and a small part of her wondered what the heck she was doing when she pleadingly continued: “please, I just want to talk to you.” 

No answer. 

“Wh...who are you?” Emma asked a bit louder now, head whipping around as she looked at every nook and cranny. She had to wipe her clammy hands again. “Please, just tell me who you are!”

‘You already know who I am...’

Emma shivered from head to toe upon hearing that soft voice once again. So close, yet so far away. She rubbed her arms where the goosebumps had erupted on her skin. Something that couldn’t quite be categorized as fear crept down her spine and made her feel a little dizzy. Almost lightheaded. She licked her lips again and her voice threatened to fail her completely when she whispered: “The Phantom of the opera...” 

A hoarse and soft chuckle followed her statement. ‘Yes... that’s exactly who I am.’

“Are you... Are you a ghost?” Emma asked dumbly. But perhaps it was sort of plausible to ask a faceless voice just that. 

Another rich chuckle followed her question. The woman was clearly amused by her question. ‘Perhaps I am...’

Intoxicated by the fact that whoever this was actually was responding to her, Emma started rambling: “where are you? How come I can hear you? Were you in my room last night? You were. Weren’t you? What did you take? Why did you take the feathers? What was in that drawer? Where did you get the key?”

No answer. Nothing. Quiet. 

“Hello?” Emma called desperately. “Hello? Please talk to me!”

But her plead was only met with deafening silence, and Emma instinctively knew that the “ghost” had left her once again. An irrational sense of disappointment washed over her as she looked around in the empty crypt. Emma had never been one for cursing, but in this very moment she couldn’t quite hold back. “Damnit!” she muttered earnestly and rubbed her arms again. At least she wasn’t hallucinating. 

Someone had talked to her, she knew that with a hundred percent. God, if only she had walked in here a few seconds earlier. Perhaps she could have caught a glimpse of this “ghost’s” face. Because she had been there. Who else would have lit that candle underneath Christine’s picture?

Emma glanced at the picture one more time. Christine Daaé smiled back at her and Emma’s head was full of thoughts when she turned around to leave the crypt. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the “ghost” hadn’t sounded particularly murderous when saying Christine’s name. She had actually almost sounded....Longingly. 

To Be Continued........


	9. And Do I Dream Again

”Goodnight, Emma,” Belle smile and gave her arm a soft little squeeze. “You did very well today.”

“Thank you,” Emma said and returned the smile. “And goodnight.”

“Wow, you look beat,” Ruby commented as she caught up with Belle. 

“I am,” Emma half-chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired!”

“You better get to bed then,” Malena interrupted as she emerged seemingly from the shadow. “Same goes for you two,” she glanced at both Belle and Ruby. “Miss Lucas, promise me that I won’t cross paths with you in the hallways later.”

Ruby was bold enough to snicker. “I promise I won’t, Malena.”

“I hope not,” Malena said, giving Ruby a rather stern look. “And if I were to- say, patrol the hallways later, I won’t hear laughter from your room either?”

“Definitely not,” Ruby said reassuringly, and Emma saw how the tips of her ears turned a bit red. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

Malena turned her attention to Belle. “And you, miss French? I won’t find you in the hallways either?”

“Definitely not,” Belle said solemnly, and she managed to sound much more genuine than Ruby. 

She was rewarded with a smile and Malena finally turned her attention to Emma: “And I don’t suppose I have to remind you to be quiet and not wander around in the hallways, do I, miss Swan?”

“No,” Emma confirmed with a smile. She had absolutely no intentions of running around in the hallways tonight.

“Excellent. I’m happy to hear you haven’t been lead astray yet,” Malena quipped.

Belle and Ruby chuckled, and Belle was quick to assure: “we’d never do anything to lead Emma astray, Malena.”

“Not unless she asks us too, of course,” Ruby added and earned herself a stern glance from Malena and an elbow to the ribs from Belle who immediately protested: “Ruby!”

Emma chuckled a little again. She really liked both Ruby and Belle. They had been so nice to her. Had helped her feel at home.

That was when Lily came trotting down the hallway. She flashed Emma a warm smile and looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but Malena beat her to it. “Lily, dear,” she said and reached out so she could squeeze her daughter’s shoulder. “How nice to see that you’re paying attention to curfew.”

Emma did her utmost not to laugh at the expression on Lily’s face. She rolled her dark eyes dramatically before saying in her sweetest voice: “yes, mother.”

Ruby was the one to chuckle now, and Lily flashed her mom a little teasing smile that only looked half-apologetic.

“I think that’s enough chitchat,” Malena said, only sounding half-stern and looking like she tried hard to suppress a smile. “Now off to bed you pop,” she continued with sparkling eyes. “All of you.   
Rehearsal starts early tomorrow, and Mme. Carlotta wouldn’t appreciate it if any of you were to show up late.” 

Belle was the first one to do as told. She flashed Emma one last smile and then turned around and went towards her own room. 

It didn’t take long before Ruby wisely followed her example. “’Night,” she said and patted Emma’s shoulder. “Try not to dream about rehearsing.”

Emma chuckled. “I’ll try. Goodnight, Ruby.” She watched as Ruby went in the same direction as Belle had disappeared in.

“Goodnight,” Lily smiled and hid a yawn behind her hand. “Jeez, I’m gonna be out cold the moment my head hits the pillow. Aren’t you?”

“I hope so,” Emma smiled. “Goodnight, Lily.”

Lily’s lips curved up in a little half-smile. Then she turned her attention to Malena. “Goodnight, mom,” she said, sounding ever so sweet.

“Go to bed, Lilith,” Malena commanded. Then they both laughed, and after a moment, Lily disappeared down the hallway.

Emma stood for a moment and looked at the half-dark hallways. As though she was expecting to see someone else coming down those hallways. Someone who always moved around when the opera was   
quiet and there was no one here to see her....

Emma nearly jumped when a soft hand landed on her shoulder. 

“My apologies,” Malena said quickly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No, I’M sorry,” Emma said hastily and flushed as she looked up at her teacher. “I was just... getting lost in my own head.”

“Oh,” Malena half-chuckled. “I know those moments all too well.”

Emma nodded mutely. Maybe it was a bad idea to envision dark figures walking around in the opera right before bedtime.

“Are you quite alright?” Malena asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, of course!” Emma said hastily.

Malena examined her face intensely. “Are you quite sure, though, miss Swan? I’ve been keeping an eye on you for the past few days, and I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed a bit quiet.”

“Oh,” Emma said and blushed again. “I’m fine. Really, I am.”

“Alright,” Malena nodded. “I believe you. But if that changes, promise me you’ll come to me, alright?”

“I promise,” Emma said almost solemnly and flashed her teacher what she hoped what she hoped was a reassuring smile. 

Malena returned the smile. “Off to bed you pop, miss Swan. It’s getting late.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Malena,” Emma said, flashing her teacher another smile.

“Goodnight, Emma. Sleep well.”

“Thank you,” Emma said and finally retired to her own room. She listened as Malena’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway, and Emma quietly scolded herself. Reminded herself to act normal. She couldn’t make Malena worried. Or anyone else for that matter. Emma suppressed a yawn and rubbed her bleary eyes with a fist once. She was tired, yes indeed. So very tired. She had been for the past three days. But she hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead she had lied awake and wondered about the startling conversation she’d had a few days ago. The conversation with the “Ghost”. The “Phantom of the opera”. That was how the woman had identified herself when speaking to Emma, but was that really true? Emma had considered the possibility that someone had taken a prank to an extra level, but she had been down in the crypt since that day, and she had found no hidden nooks or crooks where someone could potentially hide. No latch in the floor, no nothing. 

No, this wasn’t a prank. This was something completely else. There really was a woman hiding somewhere in this opera. A woman who had spoken to Emma. A woman she was oddly not-afraid of. If anything, Emma was curious. Yes. She was curious. And she wanted another chance to talk to this...ghost. Just the briefest encounter. The quickest glance. Anything. Emma wasn’t capable of letting this go. Not when she had established contact with whoever this person was. Her mystery novels didn’t satisfy her anymore. She wanted to know more about this woman. Who she was and where she came from. Her name. Everyone had a name. And that included ghostly women hiding in the opera. Emma wanted to find her and ask her things. She wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on in this opera. At least that was what she told herself. Because she didn’t dare admitting to herself that she actually wanted another chance to hear the woman talk or even sing with that rich and husky voice that had seemed so ethereal. That voice which had filled her stomach with something that felt like both ice and fire. Had made gooseflesh spring on her body for other reasons than fear. There had been something else. Something... Something... Emma remembered how all the little hairs in the back of her neck had stood to attention when the woman spoke. That should have been fear, right? Yes. She should have been deadly afraid because some “ghost” was seemingly pulling her leg. So why hadn’t she been? Why had she felt oddly soothed? Even though this “Phantom” hadn’t been threatening in any way, the normal reaction would have been fear. Should have been fear.

Emma blinked and snapped out of when realizing that she was standing with her hand on the doorknob like some fool. She was actually supposed to go to bed right now. 

She changed out of her clothes and into a pajamas. Her soft, blue pajamas that looked and smelled like home. That pajamas always made her feel safe and secure and sleepy. Then she went to bed. But she wasn’t in the mood for sleeping at all. She was much too busy speculating about that mysterious meeting she’d had a few days ago. A meeting with The Phantom of the Opera. It didn’t seem plausible at all, and yet the mysterious woman had confirmed that that was indeed who she was. The Phantom of the Opera. Emma felt the shivers run down her spine and pulled the covers tighter around herself. 

What was it about this she couldn’t let go? She should. She knew she should. That would be the only sensible thing to do. That and tell someone about it. Anyone. Ruby perhaps. She would believe her. But maybe she would tell it to someone else, and for whatever reason, Emma wasn’t interested in that. She didn’t quite know why, but she did know that she wanted to meet that woman again.

She sighed as she rolled onto her stomach. She wished she could think about the rehearsals. It wasn’t like today hadn’t been hard, it had been incredibly hard. But for some reason, there wasn’t room in her mind to think of anything but the mystery woman she’d encountered in the crypt. Well, encountered was definitely stretching it. She hadn’t really encountered her. She’d “just” heard her voice. And what a voice that had been! It had almost felt a bit like she had been mocking Emma. Been amused over her questions. And then she had vanished. Just like that. Gone. But gone where? That was the thing   
Emma couldn’t figure out. She had searched the crypt from top to bottom and felt like a fool while doing so, but she had found absolutely nothing that could explain how the woman could have spoken to her. No latches. No nothing. Emma huffed out a breath. She felt frustrated. And annoyed at the woman. It was her fault she couldn’t sleep when she was supposed to. She rolled onto her back again and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow she would have to at least try and concentrate on what was important. Singing. Calling her parents. She hadn’t been very aware the last time she had spoken to them, Emma realized with a twinge of guilt. And she hadn’t been a very good friend either. Lily had spoken to her several times today, but Emma had been so unaware she had barely answered. That was unacceptable. She would have to do better tomorrow. 

Emma curled and pulled the covers over her head in an attempt to block out whatever faint moonlight that could stream in through the curtains. Not because she was afraid. No, she hadn’t been afraid since she heard that soft voice talking to her in the crypt. And that was obviously completely irrational. Of course she ought to be afraid. A strange woman had spoken to her. That wasn’t exactly normal. 

But Emma wasn’t afraid. Not even the littlest bit. And why was that? Emma didn’t investigate further into it. Instead she sighed deeply and closed her eyes. She was ready to try anything to get some sleep. Count sheep’s or whatever. Another frustrated huff escaped her, and she felt utterly tempted to get out of bed and check the floor just one more time. Or maybe even break her promise to Malena and sneak down to the crypt to go over the room just one more time. Just to make sure she hadn’t missed any clues there might have been, because seriously, how did that “ghost” manage to make it sound as though she was standing right next to Emma? What was she, a magician? Did she have the ability to turn invisible, perhaps? 

No. Emma snorted at her own train of thoughts. Of course not. No one had the ability to make themselves invisible. That was impossible. But then again, a strange woman appearing in her room at night should be impossible too. And there was the thing about the locked drawer, too. Emma had driven herself crazy wondering about that, but she couldn’t stop. What could possibly have been in that drawer? 

Emma had considered just about anything, but she still came up empty. And felt beyond frustrated. She tugged at the collar of her pajamas. For whatever reason, she felt warm. Restless. Maybe she should get out of bed. She could go and sit by the window for a while. Maybe even crack it open and hope that the cold breeze of air could do something about her overheated skin. 

Emma quietly slipped out of bed. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and sighed. She looked terrible. Bushy-haired. Dark circles underneath green eyes that looked entirely too big for her face. She was getting mad at herself. Why couldn’t she just sleep when she was supposed to? Why did she have to be the type who laid awake for hours and hours and thought about things again and again? Sometimes she couldn’t stand herself. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed deeply. She had to stop this because it messed up everything. Emma made a decision. Tomorrow she would go down to the crypt and inspect every inch of the room one last time. Then she would do the same to her room, and if she didn’t find anything, not even the tiniest little evidence, she would let it go. Just like that. Because she had to. If she kept doing this, it would affect everything she had come to Paris to do. And she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let herself become obsessed with some old story. It wasn’t healthy. 

Emma turned her back on her reflection. Then she went over to the decanter on the little table and poured herself a glass of water. Took a sip. Went to crack the window open to let some air in. Took another sip of her water and then went back to bed. She pulled the covers over her head to make the room dark. Now was the time to get some sleep. Emma yawned as to confirm this, and then she stubbornly squeezed her eyes shut....

‘When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in some sort of hallway or corridor. She wasn’t quite sure where she was. Everything was so dark. She couldn’t see a thing. 

‘H-Hello?” she called. “Where am I?’

There was no answer. 

Emma began walking. She wasn’t sure why or where she was going. Her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. She had to use her hands to feel. It was too dark to see a thing. She felt raw stone against her fingers, and she could hear water dripping somewhere. Water. Where on earth was she? 

‘What is this place?’ she whispered, and her voice broke. ‘W-where am I?’ 

Something suddenly skittered across the floor, over her feet, and Emma let out a startled little scream. It was a rat! There were rats down here! Emma gasped and covered her mouth not to scream loudly. 

Rats and raw stone and water dripping. She didn’t know what the hell this place was, but she did know that she definitely did not want to be down here anymore! She had to get back somehow, had to go back to her room where it was warm and safe. She could sense the light coming from somewhere behind her, and she turned around. Her legs trembled underneath her, and Emma was afraid she would fall. She clutched tightly at the wall and was determined to get back to her room as soon as possible, when she suddenly sensed some movements in the darkness behind her. She turned back around and squinted to see what it was. But she couldn’t. She could only hear someone moving around. 

‘Hello?” she called again. “Who’s down here?’ 

There was no reply. Just someone...laughing. Youthfully and sweetly, and if Emma hadn’t been afraid before, she certainly was now! 

‘Who is this?’ she said quietly, and then, a bit more demanding: “Who are you?!’

‘Be careful...’ the sweet, youthful voice said, and the warning floated through the corridor like air. 

‘Why?’ Emma asked and swallowed something. Her throat felt dry and all the little hairs in the back of her neck stood to attention. “Why do I have to be careful?’

‘I wasn’t,” the ghost-like voice answered. “And look what happened to me.’

Suddenly she stepped out of the shadows, and Emma gasped and stumbled backwards. She was almost too afraid to look at the young woman who was standing in front of her. She was wearing a long white dress and her long golden hair all the way down to her waist. She could have been beautiful if it hadn’t been for the way her lips were blue and her skin ghostly white. She had bruises on her cheeks and when she lifted her pale arms, Emma could see some splatters of blue-black bruises there as well. And she was drenched in water. Her white dress was sticking to her. Strands of hair were sticking to her cheeks, and Emma realized that the dripping sound was coming from her hair. Like she had just risen from the underground lake to stand here in front of Emma.

‘Christine?’ she whispered and felt how her throat tightened.

Christine nodded and repeated her warning: ‘be careful, Emma.’

‘W-why?’ Emma said hoarsely. Her palms were growing damp. 

‘It won’t end well if you start to ask questions,’ Christine said quietly as she stepped closer to Emma. ‘It didn’t for me.’ she lifted her drenched curls, moved them away to expose her neck, and Emma gasped when she saw the blue-black marks on Christine’s neck. Fingerprints. Like someone had been holding her down. 

‘W-who did this to you?’ Emma whispered and felt utterly nauseous upon looking at the bruises on Christine’s neck. 

Christine just shook her head. ‘Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?’

‘Something stupid like what?’ Emma said ragged. ‘Like looking for the pha-‘

‘Shh!’ Christine interrupted. ‘Don’t say it! And don’t tell anyone what you know!’ she suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Emma’s arm with her ice cold fingers. 

‘What are you doing?! Let me go!’ Emma yelped and gripped Christine’s wrist in an attempt to make her let go. God, her fingers were so ice cold! It send shivers through Emma’s entire body.

‘I can’t!’ Christine hissed. ‘Not until you-‘ she interrupted herself and looked back at the darkness. 

‘Christine?’ Emma whispered. ‘W-what is it?’

‘Shh!’ Christine half-hissed. 

Emma shut her mouth and listened. For a moment she could hear absolutely nothing. Except for an odd little sound. Almost like a ‘clack-clack-clack’-sort of sound. 

Christine released her grip on Emma’s wrist so sudden, Emma almost stumbled a bit. And she wasn’t given much time to regain her balance. Christine gave her a hard shove that nearly send her tumbling into the wall. 

‘Run!’ Christine yelled. ‘Emma, you have to run!’

Emma didn’t have to be told twice. She turned her back on the ghostly version of Christine Daaé and ran like she never had run before. She fumbled her way through the darkness and suppressed a scream when she felt the rats on her feet. She suddenly realized that her feet were wet. She was walking in water. But that couldn’t be. There hadn’t been any water when she started her walk. Emma sped up her run but came to a halt when the dark corridor suddenly split into three different paths. 

‘No...’ she whispered. How could she possibly know which path to choose? Which one would lead to safety?

Somewhere behind her, Christine screamed, and Emma yelled out to her. ‘Christine!’

She had to help her, she had to DO something! She couldn’t just stand here and.....’

Emma gasped sharply. Her heart was beating with a million kilometers per second in her chest, and she was drenched in sweat. But she was okay. She was in her bed. Could feel the sheet underneath her, the covers above her, and the soft fabric of her pajamas against her skin. She was safe. It had been a dream. A terrible, horrible, dream. She let out a deep sigh. Took enormous gulps of air and rubbed her cheek. She wanted to get some more water. Emma blinked her eyes open and wiggled slightly under the covers, gripping onto it to pull it away from her face, but before she got to it, she suddenly picked up on something. A sound. A rustling sound. A rustling sound very close to her ear. Emma’s stomach flipflopped when she realized that she wasn’t alone in her room. Far from it. She swallowed thickly and considered what to do. Should she rip the covers away and scream? Or should she remain calm and pretend to be asleep? No, she couldn’t do that. She had already moved. The person here probably already knew she was awake. 

Emma licked her lips and took an enormous leap of fate when she quietly asked: “is...Is someone there?”

The answer to that was definitely yes. Emma heard more shuffling, more rustling. But no confirmation. Her throat tightened again, and her voice was hoarse when she whispered: “look, I know you’re there, and I’m not gonna scream or do anything, just please say something?”

Still, no one said anything. Instead she heard footsteps coming closer to her bed, and she didn’t have to rip the covers aside to know that “someone” was standing right above her now. She could hear the woman’s breathing so very close to her ear. Her heart was thudding in her chest.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek not to cry. “I won’t scream,” she repeated. “I won’t d-do anything.”

No answer. Breathing. A bit of rustling. And then, finally: “why would you scream?”

Emma gasped upon hearing that velvet soft voice again, and she was barely capable of asking: “are you not gonna h-hurt me?”

“No,” the woman answered. “I’m not gonna hurt you. As long as you stay under the covers.”

“W-why?” Emma stuttered. 

“Because I don’t want you to look at me,” the woman said.

“Why not?”

Her question was ignored and instead answered with another: “are you afraid?”

“Yes,” Emma whispered. 

“Of me?”

“N-no. I had a nightmare. I have anxiety, and when I’m stressed, I tend to get nightmares and-“ Emma stopped talking. Why was she telling this ghost all this?

“I never would have guessed. You were laying so still,” the woman said unbothered by her sudden silence. Emma felt the bed dip as though the woman had perched herself on the edge. The gesture should have come across as scary for sure. A strange woman in her room. A strange woman sitting on her bed like it was the most normal thing in the world. A strange woman demanding that she didn’t remove the covers from her head. Yes, Emma should definitely have been scared. 

“W-who are you?” she whispered quietly. 

“I’ve already told you who I am,” the woman replied.

“But who are you really?”

“The Phantom of the Opera,” she said softly and melodically. 

“What’s your name?” Emma pressed and didn’t quite know where the sudden courage came from. 

“I don’t have a name.” 

“Everyone has a name,” Emma insisted. 

“No. They don’t,” the ‘Phantom’ said, and it sounded so final Emma didn’t dare pressing the issue. But she didn’t want to be silent either. She was afraid that the woman would leave if she went quiet. 

“What are you doing in here?” Emma asked. “What are you doing in my room?”

The Phantom let out a slight, melodic chuckle. “Your room?”

“Y-yes?” Emma said somewhat insecure. “This is.... my room.”

“Oh yes,” the woman agreed. “I suppose it is, isn’t it? Your room.”

“You don’t like when I call it my room?” Emma guessed. She could deduce as much from the woman’s tone. 

She didn’t answer, Emma just heard some rustling, and the sound made her feel a bit uneasy. She didn’t want this Phantom or ghost to leave quite yet. She had to keep the conversation going. “Were you looking for something again?” she asked.

The Phantom chuckled, but the sound was sad. “Perhaps I was.”

“What were you looking for?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because...” Emma bit the inside of her cheek. “Maybe I could help you?” 

The Phantom laughed again. This time louder. “Oh, you can’t. No one can.”

“Why are you-“

“Are you still afraid?” the woman interrupted.

Emma blinked under the covers and wished she could have seen something of the woman. She could hear the fabric of whatever she was wearing rustling every time she was shifting, and she could feel the softness from the woman’s hand on her own, but she couldn’t see her. She noted that the nightmare was still sitting in her like a block of ice in her chest. “Yes,” she whispered 

“Hmmm,” the Phantom mused, she was clearly thinking about something. Emma heard rustling and wondered if this was the moment she would leave. Emma felt oddly panicked thinking about the woman leaving.

But the Phantom didn’t leave. Instead Emma gasped when she suddenly felt a hand covering her own. The hand she had wiggled out of the covers a moment ago. The mysterious woman was holding her hand. And Emma didn’t feel the least bit uneasy. Instead she picked up on how soft the woman’s hand was. Soft and warm. 

“Don’t be afraid,” the woman said melodically. “You have nothing to fear.”

Emma licked her lips and inhaled discreetly. The woman smelled spicy yet sweet. Apples and something else. The scent was intense and completely unique. Emma had never and would never come across a scent that could match. 

“Why... Why can’t I look at you?” she asked quietly. Again, where did this courage come from?

“Shh,” the woman said simply.

“But why-“ 

‘The day starts, the day ends, time crawls by,’ the Phantom sang quietly and melodically, interrupting Emma’s question. ‘Night steals in, pacing the floor. The moments creep, yet I can’t bear to sleep, till I hear you sing once more...’

Emma gasped and felt tempted to clutch at the woman’s hand, because she had never heard anything so beautiful as this. The Phantom’s voice was soft as velvet, sweet as honey. Strong, but with a controlled fragility to it. Like when a bubble is expected to burst but just continues to grow and grow. The Phantom could control her voice in a way Emma could only dream of. But it wasn’t just that. When she sang, Emma could hear all the sadness of the world. The Phantom’s voice was laced with tragic beauty. 

‘And weeks pass, and months pass, seasons fly. Still you don’t walk through the door. And in a haze, I count the silent days, till I hear you sing once more...’

Emma wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but suddenly her eyes slid closed. Her body was starting to feel heavy, so heavy. The only part of her that was awake was her ears. She couldn’t stop listening to the beauty filling them. She never wanted to stop listening to the Phantom’s song. 

‘And sometimes at nighttime, I dream that you are there, but wake, holding nothing but the empty air. And years come, and years go, time runs dry, still I ache down to the core. My broken soul can’t be alive and whole, till I hear you sing once more...’

Tears were burning behind Emma’s eyelids. She had never heard anything more beautiful and sad than this. There were questions in her mind, so many questions, but she found herself unable to ask a single one of them. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to open her mouth, her voice wasn’t doing her bidding.

‘And music, your music, your music, it teases in my ear. I turn and it fades away and you’re not here...’

“That’s so sad,” Emma whispered hoarsely, having suddenly regained control over her voice. She tried to blink the tears away and asked one of the questions that had been burning on her tongue: “Why are you sad?”

There was no answer. And Emma suddenly realized that she couldn’t feel the woman’s hand on top of hers anymore. Nor the way the mattress dipped when someone was sitting on it. “H-Hello?” she called hesitantly. 

‘I always feel no more than halfway real, till I hear you sing once more...’

How could the woman’s voice still be in her room when the woman herself wasn’t? Emma couldn’t quite understand that. How was it possible? Here one moment and gone the next. It couldn’t be. She strained her ears, but she couldn’t hear the Phantom singing anymore. She was just... Gone. Emma didn’t understand. She should get out of bed and investigate, but there was a problem. She couldn’t stay awake for longer. She couldn’t pull the covers aside and look around in the seemingly empty room. The only thing she could do was surrendering to the heaviness that filled her body and mind. She didn’t even feel scared anymore. She felt... soothed. Reassured. Safe, even. Yes. Safe. Cocooned in a blanket of safety and comfort. Nothing and nobody could get her here. There would be no more nightmares,   
Emma was sure of that. She couldn’t explain where that sudden reassurance came from, but she trusted it with all she had.

The Phantom’s soft and gentle voice and beautiful, yet tragic song filled her mind and chased away any remains of the dreams as Emma surrendered to sleep once more.... 

To Be Continued.......?


	10. Come To Me, Strange Angel

The day after the Phantom’s nightly visit to her room, Emma felt completely giddy. She struggled to concentrate throughout the day and could barely wait until night came again. 

But when all the little nooks and cranny’s at the Opera Garnier laid in shadows and the agonizing daytime finally was over, nothing happened. Emma stayed up way past her bedtime and waited. Nothing happened. She climbed into bed and pretended to be asleep. Nothing happened. No soft rustling of fabric. No voice in her ear. No hand holding hers. Emma was beyond disappointed. She had so hoped that this mysterious “Angel of Music” would visit her again. 

The disappointment lasted until next morning. Then she became hopeful and started to look forward to when night came all over again. This time she climbed into bed immediately, pulled the covers over her head and pretended to be asleep right away, but didn’t sleep for hours. Instead she laid awake and waited and waited and waited. But absolutely nothing happened. No “Angel of Music” came to see her that night either. Once again, the disappointment filled Emma like a bitter taste in her mouth. This wasn’t fair. She had so hoped that this strange angel would come to see her. Emma had more questions for the woman. Who was she really, where did she come from and where had she learned to sing like that?   
She didn’t give up. She continued the “no sleep”-cycle and waited. A fourth night passed, and nothing happened. Then a fifth, a sixth. Emma was exhausted. During one of the classes, Killian Jones threw a paper ball at her. Apparently, she had been asleep by her desk. Emma was horrified. Sleeping in class. It was safe to say that nothing like that had ever happened to her, and it shouldn’t happen now either. She had to be better than that. 

On the seventh night she gave up and went to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. One could almost have believed that her deep and peaceful sleep would have been enough to make the Phantom appear once again, but nothing happened. Emma woke up with the disappointment gnawing low in her belly. She had so hoped. She really, really had. But she couldn’t continue this. She needed her sleep. 

She couldn’t keep waiting and waiting. She would end up getting sick if she wasn’t careful. She couldn’t let this get out of hand. 

A strong indicator was the fact that she almost fell asleep while showering. And then again at breakfast. It was almost laughable, really. Almost. Emma didn’t have much humor left after her fruitless nights of waiting, and she felt oddly cheated by the Phantom, even though she definitely hadn’t promised to come back again. Not once. Not ever.

That day there happened to be a free period after lunch, and Emma took the opportunity to open her notebook and scrawl down the song the woman had sung to her. Or she tried to. She could remember most of it. ‘The day starts, the day ends; time crawls by. Night steals in, pacing the floors. The moments creep, yet I can’t bear to sleep, till I hear you sing once more’. Till I hear you sing once more. That wasn’t quite your normal lullaby. In fact, Emma had never heard another song like that one before. Where did it come from, and who was the Phantom singing about? The Phantom. Emma was so disappointed she had not managed to find out what the Phantom’s real name was. Everyone had a name. Of course the Phantom had too. Emma had wondered what the Phantom’s real name was. It had to be something sophisticated to go with that rich and husky voice. Maybe... Antoinette or Juliette or something like that. Perhaps it was childish, but Emma had felt the need to give the Phantom a name. 

Because the woman who had been sitting by her bedside and holding her hand had been the furthest thing from a Phantom or a ghost. She had been a real, living, breathing human. Not something scary. Emma wasn’t the least bit afraid of her. Instead she was curious and wanted to know more. And she was disappointed that “Antoinette/Juliette” hadn’t come to see her in a week. It wasn’t fair. Not when Emma finally felt as though she had formed some sort of connection with the woman. 

“That looks neat,” Lily commented when she plopped onto a chair next to Emma. “I didn’t know you write your own songs too, Em.”

“I don’t,” Emma said, quickly looking up from the scrawls in her notebook. 

Lily raised an eyebrow and read aloud: “and weeks pass, and months pass, seasons fly, still you don’t walk through the door, and in a haze, I count the silent days, till I hear you sing once more”. Wow.   
That’s beautiful.” 

“It’s not my song,” Emma said quickly. “I didn’t write this. I mean, not originally.”

“Who did then?” Lily asked, and Emma could see that she was puzzled. Intrigued. 

“I... I don’t know, actually. I just heard it somewhere,” Emma said vaguely, the tips of her ears turning pink. This was honestly a bit hard to explain away. 

But thankfully, Lily accepted the weird half-explanation and shrugged. “Okay. Well, it’s beautiful.” 

“It is,” Emma agreed. 

“Whoever came up with this is pretty talented,” Lily continued and smiled. 

Emma nodded, happily agreeing to that too.

Lily studied her face and leaned forward slightly. “Are you alright, Em?”

“Me? Yes, I’m fine. Yeah.” Emma knew she was overdoing it, but it was too late now. 

“Are you sure?” Lily continued. “’Cause I can’t help but notice that you’ve looked absolutely beat for the past week.”

“I have?” 

“Yeah, and you’ve been, I dunno, a bit distant when we’re rehearsing. Like... you’re singing the songs you’re supposed to, but you’re not really in it, you know?”

Emma licked her lips nervously. That was a very head-on observation Lily was making. “I’m supposed I’m just kinda...” she waved a hand in a half-gesture. 

“I get it,” Lily nodded. “We all have those days or even months. But I consider myself to be your friend, and I hope you’d tell me if something is wrong.”

“Of course I would!” Emma said, rushing to assure. “Absolutely. But really, nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been having a couple of off-days, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Lily said and flashed her a little smile. “You’re totally allowed to have that.”

Emma chuckled. “Thanks for checking in, though.” 

“Sure,” Lily replied and chuckled too. “I hope you don’t think I’m being paranoid or something.”

“Definitely not. You’re just being a good friend,” Emma said. And she wasn’t. She was being a terrible friend who didn’t tell Lily the truth about what was going on, but how could she tell her the truth? It   
was impossible.

That same night, Emma was back in her bed and waiting with a pulse that seemed to be hammering away in her ear. Could tonight be the night? The night where “Antoinette” came back to visit her? If she   
came back, Emma wouldn’t move a muscle. She would lie as still as though she was dead. She wouldn’t remove the covers from her face. She wouldn’t do anything. Not even if the woman came to sit on the edge of her bed again. Not even if she took her hand again. If she sang again. But after something that felt like hours of waiting, Emma’s body was starting to feel heavy from fatigue, and her eyelids kept drooping. She had to face facts. And facts were that “Antoinette/Juliette” wouldn’t be coming tonight either. Emma was so disappointed she could have cried a little. Or maybe that was just because of the fatigue. 

“Why won’t you come back?” she whispered to the darkness. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I stayed under the covers like you told me. And I haven’t told anyone. Please, don’t be scared. I promise I won’t tell   
anyone, just come back. Just one more time. Please?” 

Her room remained quiet and empty. Of course it did. Emma couldn’t exactly force this woman to come out from wherever she was hiding. Emma peeled back the covers with a groan and stared at the ceiling. Then turned her head and looked at her alarm clock. 03:45. She had stayed awake for far too long. She had to go to sleep right now. Otherwise she wouldn’t be much of a human being tomorrow.   
Her voice would remain rough and raspy for the rest of the day, and her mood would be sufficiently ruined. Emma silently cursed herself for being an idiot. She shouldn’t have done this. She shouldn’t have insisted upon staying awake and waiting for the “Angel of Music”. It was obvious that no one was gonna come. And even if she had come tonight, Emma would have been too fatigued, too tired to know what was real and what wasn’t. It was possible that she would chalk the woman in her room up to being a dream or something like that. 

She rolled onto her belly and released a frustrated little huff into her pillow. This couldn’t be the end of it. Emma didn’t want it to be the end of it. Not when she just had established some sort of connection to this woman. Her tired mind started to form connections too. What did you do when someone disappeared? The answer was obvious. Emma didn’t have to read a crime novel to know. You went looking for them, obviously. Feeling giddy, she released a muffled little chuckle into her pillow. If the “Angel of Music” refused to come back, Emma would have to come to her instead. Tomorrow she would use the free period to go looking for her. She hadn’t really decided where to look yet, but she would figure that out tomorrow. At least she had a plan now. She wasn’t giving up. Not even remotely. Her childhood nickname wasn’t “Curious George” for nothing. She wasn’t a hardcore fan of Miss Marple for nothing. Tomorrow she would perform her own investigation....

Come next day, Emma really made an effort to stay focused. She sang when she was supposed to, and this time around she really felt the music and let it soar like a soap bubble reaching towards the ceiling. Next to her, Lily smiled and flashed her a thumbs up. Emma returned the smile.

“That was wonderful, everyone,” Malena praised. “Let’s do that one more time. On my count. One, two, three...”

Everyone started to sing again, and Emma discreetly glanced around in the high ceiled room, as though she was checking to see if there should be an “audience”. There wasn’t, though. At least not anyone Emma could see... But maybe there would be later? Emma felt a flutter of excitement in her belly as she kept singing. She really did hope that. This was phase one in her plan about investigating, and she hoped that no one would muck it up. She had to do this. How else would she get her answers? How else would she encounter the “Angel of Music” again? The “Angel” had stopped coming to her. Meaning that Emma would have to find her on her own. She had considered whether it was stupid, but she had quickly arrived at the conclusion that it was not. The woman who had been sitting by her bedside and holding her hand while singing her back to sleep had not appeared threatening in anyway. She had seemed kind....Gentle. And sad, so sad. Emma wanted to know why she was sad. There were many things she wanted to know about this mysterious woman. She wanted to know whether the rumors were true, did she really live in the catacombs? Had she really known Christine (Emma’s guess was ‘yes’, surely the catacombs weren’t big enough for more people than one), and more importantly what had she taken in Emma’s drawer? What had been so important that she had to break into Emma’s room? Break in. No. She hadn’t broken in. There had been no signs of forced entry. The woman had known a way in there, and that would be Emma’s next question. How she managed to come and go so freely. How she had managed to disappear so quickly that night. Was she some sort of magician, perhaps? 

No. No, silly nonsense. That sort of thing didn’t exist. But coming to think about it, it shouldn’t be possible for a woman to live somewhere underneath the opera, so maybe Emma should be a little more open to every possibility. 

Emma almost laughed out loud and quickly disguised the sound as a half-cough. Lily shot her a glance, but she made sure to really sing and pretend that her mind didn’t just go anywhere but where it was supposed to be. Here at the lesson. Like the good and eager student she was. She didn’t want to rouse suspicion. Lily wasn’t the only one who had been looking at her recently. So had Ruby, and that was far more dangerous. Ruby had known Christine. Ruby knew stuff about Christine’s “Angel of Music”. The same Angel of Music who was now occupying Emma’s mind at every waking moment. She knew she was getting obsessed, but she couldn’t let it go. Not until she had gotten some answers. Not until she had gotten the chance to look at this “Phantom of the opera”. Why hadn’t she been allowed to look? Why had she been ordered to stay under the covers? One could wonder why she had followed that order, but Emma decided not to. Decided not to question the gentle authority in the woman’s voice. Better not. Had Christine never been allowed to look either? Not even once? For what reason? Emma didn’t understand. But she wanted to. No, she needed to. She needed to get to the bottom of this mystery once and for all. And she needed to see this woman who called herself “The Phantom of The Opera”. This woman whose voice held so much sadness....

Emma shivered a bit when the Phantom’s voice suddenly echoed in her mind. God, that voice. Velvet soft and husky. The kind of voice that could made you doze off to sleep, but Emma had also sensed a certain sharpness to it. One you could cut yourself on if not careful. She shivered again and made sure to sing extra loudly when Killian Jones turned his head and shot her a look. Now she was encountering the same problems she’d had throughout the week. Her mouth did the singing while her mind drifted, and she once again wondered why the Angel of Music had seemed to terribly sad. Her sadness when she sang had almost taken Emma’s breath away. She remembered how she had clutched at the woman’s hand, how the smell of apples had filled her nostrils and made her a bit dizzy. Again, she felt upset that she hadn’t gotten the chance to steal a glance at this angel. She was tired of imagining some woman with a blurry face. In her mind, the Angel of Music represented some sort of sorceress. She wasn’t completely sure why. Maybe it had something to do with the woman’s hoarse voice. Or perhaps it had been her long fingers or the way whatever clothes she had been wearing rustled. Emma had imagined some sort of cloak or cape. Or perhaps she pictured a sorceress because of the intense smell of apples that seemed to follow this woman wherever she went. Fresh apples. That was a bit of a fairytale smell, right? 

Emma bowed her head over her sheet of notes when Malena instructed them to start a new piece. Her mouth started to sing while her eyes darted around and scanned every inch of the Big Stage. She couldn’t see anyone, but she had learned that that didn’t necessarily mean that the chorus and Malena were the only ones there. There could be someone else here. Someone who was hiding. Someone who was watching them as they rehearsed. Emma felt another shiver run down her spine, but it wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant type of shiver. It was... the good kinds of shivers. The kind of shivers she got when she was reading a really good book. A romantic novel. 

What? Emma shook her head discreetly and licked her lips before they started on the second verse. What was she doing, thinking about romantic novels now? That was completely wrong...

At the end of the rehearsal, Emma obediently followed the rest of her classmates and Malena away from the large stage. But she had been smart. She had made sure to “accidentally” leave her sheets of notes behind. It was no problem for her to stop halfway and exclaim that she had forgotten them. Both Lily and Ruby offered to stay and wait for her, but Emma smilingly declined and reassured them that she wouldn’t be long. They should just go ahead. Lily went, but Ruby hovered for a moment, and Emma almost ducked a little as Ruby finally disappeared around the corner. She didn’t like the way the older singer looked at her. Somehow the way Ruby looked at her was a little too...knowing. Emma reminded herself to be extra careful with her “investigation”. She didn’t want Ruby to get the whiff of something. She didn’t want to cause Ruby any pain by reminding her of the friend she’d lost. That was one of Emma’s main goals too. To find out what had happened to Christine. And the Phantom of the Opera was the answer to that riddle. As Emma headed back to the stage, she couldn’t help but to think about the rumors that still circulated at the Opera Garnier. That the Phantom of the Opera had murdered Christine Daaé. When Emma first arrived here it had sounded like a right ghost story, but now she was starting to question whether there actually was any truth in that story. It seemed so unlikely that the same woman who had held her hand while singing her to sleep, also was capable of killing a young girl. It seemed so... impossible. Emma knew that she probably was jumping the conclusion here. People became killers for a variety of reasons, she knew that too. Things weren’t always as black and white as she wanted them to be. The human mind contained so many grey areas. And yet.... she heard the Phantom’s soft voice echoing in her ear as she walked around on the stage, and that... That was not the voice of a killer. It couldn’t be. Emma shook her head a little. If anyone ever heard her thoughts, they would probably tell her that she was terribly naïve, and maybe she was. Maybe she was just a silly little girl who liked ghost stories too much. 

Her footsteps echoed as she walked around on the stage. That was the only sound in here, and Emma instantly felt that pang of disappointment. But she wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. Feeling every bit determined, she walked up the stairs towards box five. God, what was she even thinking? That she would find the Angel of Music crouched behind the velvet seats? Emma snorted to herself. That was so utterly ridiculous. A silly little girl who was being an idiot and hoping for too much. 

Of course she didn’t find anything in box five. No hidden figure was crouched down behind the seats. No black feathers had been left on the floor. Emma felt like a balloon who was slowly running out of air.

“Damnit!” she cursed and angrily pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “God damnit!” Emma didn’t curse that often, but right now “damnit” was the only thing she could think of. She stomped her feet, silently hoping that it would sound hollow, that she somehow was standing on a latch or something. Something that could explain how the Phantom had been able to get away so quickly the last time she was in Box Five. But the floor sounded sturdy as ever, and Emma let out a long, deep sigh of disappointment. She had actually dared to hope that the woman would have been here. For a moment she had actually believed that maybe, somehow....

Frustrated, she plopped down onto one of the cushy, velvet seats and stretched her neck a little so she could glance at the entire stage. 

“Are you here?” she asked the empty room. “If you’re here, can’t you just please give me a sign or something?”

No one was answering her. 

“Why are you hiding from me?” Emma asked frustrated. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Still, no answer. 

“Please don’t be afraid,” she said and sighed quietly. “I just wanna talk to you. To say thank you for soothing me that night when I had a nightmare. You helped me fall asleep again.”

No one answered her. She was talking to thin air. This was ridiculous. 

Emma got up from the velvet chair and walked back down the many stairs. She had put way too much hope into this little mission, and she was so terribly disappointed that she hadn’t found anything. Just something. A stray black feather would have sufficed. Instead she just felt like a fool. A silly little girl on a ghost hunt. A silly little girl who was looking for someone who didn’t want to be found. 

Her footsteps echoed as she walked back across the stage to grab her sheet of notes. She murmured under her breath as she quietly cursed herself for hoping too much. And she wandered what else she could do to coax the Phantom out of her hiding. Maybe she could try and sing in her room like she had done that night. The Phantom had finished the song. Maybe she would do it again. Or perhaps she could feign a nightmare. Maybe that could lure the Phantom out of her hiding. Emma was willing to try just about anything. 

“I’ll keep trying,” she vowed out loud as she crouched down to grab her notes. “I won’t give up. I’m gonna keep trying until I get to see you-“ she licked her lips, corrected: “talk to you. I don’t know if you’re afraid of me, or I should be afraid of you, but I’m not gonna stop!” her stubbornness was blooming, and she squared her shoulders. No, she wasn’t gonna stop. And no matter how stupid it was, she was gonna stay up late tonight and wait for the Phantom. Who knew, maybe tonight would be the night where she finally decided to-

“Miss Swan?”

Emma squealed and dropped her notes on the floor. “M-Mr. Gold,” she stuttered as she looked up at the man coming clack-clack-clack’ing towards her with his cane. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you at all!” 

“I’m sorry I startled you,” he said kindly and elegantly held on to his cane with one hand as he bent at the waist and gathered her notes for her. “I just heard you speak and I thought a group of students had decided to drift around in here....”

“N-no, just me,” Emma said. “I forgot my notes and I was... I was talking to myself.” She blushed hard. 

Mr. Gold chuckled lightly as he handed the sheet of notes back to her. “That is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed over, miss Swan. Everyone talks to themselves once in a while. Here’s your notes.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“And again, I’m sorry for startling you. That truly wasn’t my intention,” he said and smiled at her. 

“I know,” Emma quickly assured and returned the smile. “I’ll just.... head out and do some of my homework before the next rehearsal.”

“That sounds very sensible indeed, miss Swan. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you. You too, Mr. Gold. Bye.” Emma quickly skittered out of the room with her heart hammering. He really had given her quite the shock. For a split second, Emma silently complained that he seemingly just had appeared out of nowhere, but then she remembered that he was the owner of Opera Garnier. He was entitled to appear wherever and whenever he wanted. She shouldn’t be complaining about that. She was the one who had been roaming around in Box Five without permission. Students weren’t supposed to be up in the boxes, and now Emma felt a bit guilty for it. Suppose   
Mr. Gold somehow knew? Emma knew he couldn’t have seen her, she would have him too had that been the case, but she had a terrible pokerface. He could probably tell that she had been doing something she wasn’t supposed to do just by taking one look at her face. 

Emma clutched the notes to her chest as she quickly hurried down the hallway. The last thing she wanted to do was to make him suspicious. He wasn’t just a student like Ruby or Lily. He wasn’t even a teacher like Mal. No, he was the owner of this place, and if he started to suspect something... No. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to keep her cool. And stop doing crazy things like sneaking back to the stage and roam around on her own. She had to stop investigating. She wasn’t Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot. Christ, she wasn’t even Miss Marple. Her detective skills only lasted to solve mysteries in books. That was all. Emma sighed, feeling both embarrassed and annoyed with herself. She knew that she had said that she would keep trying to think of new ways to lure the Phantom out, but now it felt as though her meeting with Mr. Gold had been a meeting with reality too. What was she even doing, running around and looking for ghosts and not concentrating on her singing? Her dream since she was a little girl. Was she in the middle of throwing it all away? No. She didn’t want to do that. She couldn’t do that. She had to decide what was important and what wasn’t. 

Further down the hallway, she spotted Lily who was sort of hovering. Maybe waiting for her. 

“Lily,” Emma called. “Wait up!”

Lily immediately turned around and flashed her a smile. “There you are. Did you find your notes?”

“Yeah, I did,” Emma waved them as evidence. “Do you wanna rehearse together after lunch or something?”

“Sure! I’d love too,” Lily beamed. 

Emma genuinely smiled at that. “Awesome. Rehearsal always works better if you’re two, right?”

Lily agreed with her, and when she linked her arm with Emma’s, Emma didn’t protest at all. 

Emma worked hard for the rest of that day. She really put her back into it and sang her heart out. She tried her best to forget all her previous plans about searching the place until she found something. It was silly. Ridiculous. Dumb. Not something she did. Somehow, she would have to forget about this mystery. Otherwise she feared that she would go mad.

After dinner, Ruby invited her into her room along with Belle, and Emma happily accepted the invitation. That was what she should be doing. Gaining friends, meeting people. Elsa and Anna were there too, and Emma had a really good time. But she had to endure Ruby’s prying eyes though. The older students was studying her a bit too intensely and seeing that Emma didn’t have a pokerface at all, she just settled for smiling widely while taking large sips of the tea Belle had conjured for them. It was a nice tea. Emma was having a nice time. Hanging out with friends and most-certainly-definitely-not thinking about her failed investigation. Nor was she planning on staying awake tonight. No, not at all. It wasn’t worth it. Definitely not. 

“Cheers, Em,” Ruby said as she clinked her teacup with Emma’s. 

“Cheers,” Emma said and winced. Her voice was too high. Too pitchy. God, why was she so bad at pretending that everything was fine? 

Luckily, she was saved by Elsa who threw herself into a long monologue about how terribly difficult she had found today’s lesson to be. For once, Emma listened carefully. It was Elsa’s third year here at opera. It was nice to be prepared for what was to come. And according to Elsa, the lessons would definitely not become any easier. 

“The group rehearsals are alright, but the solos...” Elsa made a face and said something in Swedish Emma didn’t understand but still managed to decipher to be a curse word. 

“But you always nail the solos,” Emma said admiringly. “I’ve heard you. You’re brilliant.”

Elsa flashed her a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Emma. I just wish it wasn’t such hard work!”

Everyone laughed at that, and Emma thought to herself how nice this was. How easy it was to believe that she was just another one of the first year students whose biggest concern was to do her best at the lessons. She wished she was a normal first year choir member who thought of nothing but singing. She could be that again, couldn’t she? She just had to push everything else away once and for all. No more ghosts, no more staying up late. And no more investigations. Plain and simple. She took a large swig of her tea as though it marked her decision about going back to being a normal student here at the opera. She was so done with waiting for something that would never happen again....

But Emma’s decision about stopping her ghost hunt vacillated the moment she returned to her room later that night. She had ended up hanging out with Ruby and the others for quite a while, and she was incredibly tired. But she was still very much capable of smelling the scent of apples that seemed to fill her room. Apples. Emma looked around in the room and found it empty. But there was a slight crease on the bed as though someone had been sitting here. No, not just someone. HER. SHE had been here tonight, in Emma’s room. And Emma hadn’t been here. Impossible. Emma could have cried. She had missed out on a chance to meet the Phantom again! This couldn’t be. 

“No,” she whispered. Gone was her decision about stopping the investigation. The thought about going to bed seemed almost impossible. How would she even be able to go to sleep when she knew that the Phantom had been here tonight? What had she been searching for this time? Had she even been searching for anything? What if she actually had come to see Emma, to talk to her again? Had she been disappointed when she found the room empty? Frustrated? Or maybe even upset?

Emma sat down heavily on the bed and shielded her face in her hands, fought the urge to scream of frustration. This wasn’t fair. How could it be that the one night she hadn’t been in her room, the Phantom had shown up?! The one night where Emma had done something else instead of being on her guard and waiting. She sighed bitterly. That was what she got for dropping her plans. A missed opportunity. For the second time within a day, Emma cursed and immediately cringed afterwards. Her mom would definitely have raised an eyebrow if she heard it. She hated when Emma cursed. 

Feeling utterly defeated, Emma flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She supposed she had to get ready for bed in a moment. And she would. She just needed to... swallow back her disappointment. It was burning in her throat like acid again, and she angrily used the back of her hand to wipe over her eyes. Why was she even crying, that was ridiculous. There wasn’t exactly anything to cry about. Just another missed opportunity. No big deal. No big deal at all. 

Emma sat up again, took a deep breath. Now her pretty white choir dress had become all crumbled. She hadn’t gotten the chance to change out of it before Ruby had invited her into her room. She couldn’t wear this dress for rehearsal tomorrow. She would have to iron it first. Or maybe she could borrow a dress from Lily. Yes. She would remember to ask her about it tomorrow morning. Emma ran two fingers through her hair and noted that it was a bit tangled. She would have to give it a good brushing tomorrow. After a moment she got up from the bed and wandered over to the mirror. Studied her own face. She looked tired. No, screw tired, she looked completely EXHAUSTED. Drained. Not like she needed a good nights sleep, but several. A week. Or maybe a month. Her green eyes looked a bit watery and red rimmed as though she had been crying and wasn’t on the brink of keeling over from fatigue. Emma snorted quietly to herself. She looked plain awful. Tomorrow she would have to go out and actually get some air. Make sure those pale cheeks got some color back in them. No wonder Lily had expressed concern for her wellbeing. She looked like she was sick. Even her hair looked a bit limp. 

She lifted the golden locks and tugged them over one shoulder so she could get access to the zipper in the back of her dress. And while she stood there and tiredly fiddled and fumbled with the zipper, she noticed something. The mirror looked a little funny. Almost a bit crooked. Sure, it was an old mirror with some unidentified splotches and stains on it, and the golden frame maybe wasn’t as shiny as it once had been, but it wasn’t normally crooked. At least not like tonight. Tonight it rather looked like the mirror didn’t quite reach the golden frame. 

“Huh,” Emma muttered and stopped fiddling with the zipper to take a closer look at the mirror instead. She managed to wedge her index finger in between the mirror and frame. Weird. There was a small space between the mirror and frame, and she knew a hundred percent that that small space wasn’t normally there. 

“Okay, this is weird,” She acknowledged and wiggled her hand slightly, and as she did so, the space between the mirror and frame became larger. The mirror could be pushed to the right. Which didn’t make sense at all, but she was for some reason very willing to go with it. Very willing indeed. The exhilaration of her new discovery quickly made her forget all about how tired she had been a moment ago. Now being tired and the need to sleep was just about the last thing she was thinking about. This was far more important. Far more fantastic. 

Emma frowned in sheer concentration as she gave the mirror a purposeful shove instead of just wiggling her hand. It worked as intended and the mirror slid to the right and revealed more of the space behind it, and the more Emma pushed, the more she realized that the space behind the mirror appeared to be lit up by something. She used all the strength she could muster and pushed against the mirror with her shoulder. She grunted in sheer effort as she pushed and pushed. The old mirror creaked and squeaked, and the sound made her intestines curl and her forehead wrinkle as she cringed, but her discomfort was completely worth it. The mirror was pushed fully to the right, leaving the golden frame gaping. Now the space behind the mirror was completely exposed to her, and it didn’t take her long to figure out exactly what she was looking at. A tunnel. Her old mirror wasn’t just an old mirror. It was a mirror with a secret hidden behind it. It a doorway masquerading as a mirror. God. Emma shook her head and gaped at what she was seeing. 

“No way!” she said far too loudly as she stared into the black space that seemed to be faintly lit up by something. “This is... this is impossible.” But it wasn’t. She wasn’t dreaming or imagining things because she was overtired. She was really looking at a doorway that lead to...Who knows? Downwards, for sure, but where to, exactly? Emma didn’t know. But she definitely wanted to! Her heart started to hammer in her throat and for a split second she felt like Alice in Wonderland, about to enter some fantastical world full of strange creatures. She bit her lip and forced herself to consider for a moment. 

Was this stupid? Yes. Was it risky? Yes. Could it potentially be dangerous to venture into the unknown like this? Yes, absolutely. Could she end up getting lost in the tunnel? That was a possibility, yes. Had she considered what she would do if she found something unpleasant in the tunnel? No, not really. Would it be better to pop the mirror back in place and go to bed and then venture into the secret tunnel tomorrow? Yes, most definitely. That would be the smartest choice. But was she gonna wait until tomorrow? Could she really let this amazing, impossible discovery wait until tomorrow? Was that a risk she was willing to take? Suppose this secret doorway somehow would be gone tomorrow? Wouldn’t she regret it oh so terribly to not having investigated if that was really was the case? Yes. Yes, she would. 

It was dumb. It was risky. It could be dangerous. She could definitely end up getting lost. Emma wasn’t some Alice in Wonderland, and she doubted that this tunnel would be the gateway to a fantastical world. But much like Alice, she didn’t listen to her many and very good reasons to definitely not do this. As quietly as a ghost she went through the mirror and began her walk in the strange tunnel....

To Be Continued..........


	11. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

”What is this place?” Emma murmured as she looked at the dark passageway laying in front of her. Looking back, she could see the soft glow from her nightlight, but never had she wanted to venture into the darkness as much as she did right now. Never had the darkness been more tempting. 

She began to walk through the darkness. She had to feel her way through the dark passageway. There was raw stone under her palms when she touched the wall, and her thin ballerina slippers didn’t do much to protect her feet from the rough stone she was walking on. Emma kept walking and could hear nothing but the sound of her own footsteps. And her heart thudding in her chest. She was still struggling to wrap her head around this. That her mirror was masquerading as a secret doorway. A doorway leading to WHERE exactly? That was the question. Emma had some ideas, but she didn’t yet dare to make any guesses. Not yet. Thump-thump-thump, her heart went in her chest. Thump-thump-thump. Emma couldn’t help but compare herself to one of the heroines in her books. Right now, she was Stevie Bell from Truly Devious who bravely ventured into some deep dark passageway in order to solve the mystery. Emma would have liked some of that courage right now. Because it didn’t feel like it was the courage who made her do this. It was the curiosity. The niggling, irritating curiosity always there in the back of her head. 

“Just pretend you’re Stevie Bell,” Emma muttered to herself, and immediately wished that she hadn’t. She didn’t like how the passageway made her voice sound all “woolen” and distorted. She sounded like someone right out of a horror book. Definitely not Stevie Bell. Stevie Bell would have come prepared. She would have brought a coat. Emma rubbed her bare arms where the goosebumps had erupted on her skin. She was only wearing her white chorus dress with cap-sleeves, and the thin material did nothing to protect her skin from the cold down here. And Stevie Bell would probably have brought a flashlight with her as well. Something Emma hadn’t brought either. Not that there were that many flashlights available at the Opera Garnier, but she could have brought her cellphone and used the flashlight in that. She honestly wasn’t that good of a detective. She stopped abruptly and turned around. She could very faintly see the light from her bedroom now. She had already walked quite a long way. Should she turn around now? Would that be for the best? Should she go back, push the mirror back in place, go to sleep and wait until tomorrow?

No. She had already come this far. She couldn’t stop now. She didn’t want to. Her curiosity was stronger than her fear. 

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she mumbled to herself to break the silence at least a little, and immediately got a flashback of herself on her mother’s lap, completely enthralled and awestruck with wonder while she read “Alice in Wonderland” to her. Once the chapter had been finished, Emma had hopped of her mom’s lap and declared that she wanted an adventure like that. Her mom had laughed, called her “My sweet, curious Emma”. They’d talked about mirrors for a long time that night. Emma hadn’t been able to sleep at all, she had been much more interested in discussing “Alice in Wonderland” with her mom. Her mom had been sweet and patient albeit a bit overbearing when explaining to Emma that there was no such things as “magic mirrors” Emma had pouted, had claimed that her mom couldn’t possibly know. What gave her the right to even say that? Had she gone around and checked every single mirror in the world perhaps? Emma’s mom had laughed and said that of course she hadn’t, but still, she knew that magic mirrors unfortunately didn’t exist. Only in wonderful writers’ imagination. 

“I’ll give you imagination,” Emma said quietly. Magic mirrors did in fact exist. She had just found one, for crying out loud! Emma giggled a little to herself. Maybe she was going hysterical. Maybe she was on the verge of getting a hysterical fit because she was overtired and doing something that was so completely dumb no one would think that it was a good idea. Well, perhaps except for Stevie Bell. She would probably find that this was an excellent way to spend your night. Wandering around in hidden passageway at night. Perfectly normal. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all. Emma giggled again. Perhaps she actually was going to throw a nervous laughing fit. That was the kind of thing she did when she got anxious. She laughed. No matter how crazily inappropriate it was in the given situation. She took a deep breath, did her best to ignore the stabbing sensation in her side. This tunnel had to end somewhere, right? Everything ended somewhere. This wasn’t an eternal tunnel where you just kept walking and walking and walking without ever reaching your destination. That kind of thing didn’t exist. Emma snorted quietly. And this morning she didn’t believe that a tunnel behind a mirror existed either, and yet here she was. In a tunnel she found behind the mirror in her room. Maybe she should be a little careful with her assumptions. Maybe she should consider the impossible just once in a while. A slight skittering sound made her stop in her tracks, and she could almost feel how her ears pricked up as she listened intensely. What was that? If there was one thing she didn’t want to hear in a seemingly empty tunnel, it was the sound of someone else here. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she tried to rationalize this into something she could believe. A rat. Yes. It had just been a rat. That would make sense, right? There could be rats down here. A shiver ran down Emma’s spine. Not that she was very afraid of rats or anything, but this did remind her of the dream she’d had. First there had been rats....and then Christine Daaé’s ghost had appeared before her. Warning her before telling her to run. She had screamed. Emma steadied herself with a hand against the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment and filled her lungs with air. Christine Daaé was dead. And Emma didn’t believe in ghosts. Not the traditional kinds anyway. Not the pale ones showing up and warning her. That had been a dream. A dream and nothing more. 

Onwards she went. With one hand on the wall and her ears pricked and straining to listen. But she didn’t hear anymore skittering. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. If only she’d brought a flashlight with her. Or her phone. It would have been nice to actually see where she was walking. Emma especially thought so when she stumbled and nearly fell head first. It was only the hand on the wall that kept her standing upright. She scraped her palm against the raw stone, but rather that than accidentally splitting her head open because she was clumsy. She slowed down some and nearly crept through the tunnel with her now slightly aching hand still pressed against the wall. When would this tunnel end? And where? She was going downwards for sure. Emma could feel that in the way the tunnel seemed to tilt downwards. She was bound to be pretty far underneath the opera now, but for whatever reason, the air seemed to be pretty clear down here. She had no problems with breathing whatsoever. 

The further down she got, the more the tunnel seemed to tilt and twist and turn. Emma had to be more than alert if she wanted to avoid tripping over the hidden rocks her shoes constantly seemed to catch. Through her thin ballerinas, Emma could feel how sharp those rocks where, and she winced as she imagined herself falling and landing knees first onto one of those. That would require medical attention. She could bash in her knee caps on one of those. And if that happened, she wouldn’t be able to walk. She would have to crawl back through the tunnel. On the floor amongst the rats. Emma shivered again. Wished more than ever that she’d brought something that could shed some light on this place. “You’re fine,” she murmured to herself. “You’re doing good. Keep going.” Talking to herself was one way to keep the growing panic at bay. Emma had learned that a fairly long time ago. Whenever her heart started to thump and her throat started to tighten, all she had to do was talking to herself. Calm herself down. Chit-chat with herself until her heart slowed down and she could breathe again. But how did someone breathe when they were in an underground tunnel in the middle of the night? Safe to say, Emma didn’t have any suggestions for that, but still, she improvised as best as she could. Told herself to just keep walking. She couldn’t go back now, could she? No, she’d come to far. She wanted to know what was waiting at the end of the tunnel. “I didn’t come all this way to turn around,” she said firmly to herself and tipped her chin upwards in a haughty manner. Now she felt a bit like Elizabeth Bennett. 

But only a moment later she certainly did not feel like the heroine from one of her favorite books. Because book heroines didn’t get their shoes wet. And that was exactly what Emma just experienced. Wet shoes. She winced as she looked down at her soaked ballerina shoes. Her beautiful, delicate white ballerina shoes her father had bought for her as a going away present. They were undeniably ruined. Couldn’t be saved. But as much as she mourned that, she also wondered where the water came from. The wall also felt a bit damp under her palm. Surely, she wasn’t steering towards a beach, was she? 

Emma giggled nervously again. No, of course not. That was silly. 

She had to be exceptionally careful as she continued her mysterious walk through the tunnel. It seemed to tilt more and more, and Emma was growing scared that it suddenly would tilt so abruptly, she would slither down. Like on a roller coaster. Like that scene in ‘Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets’ where Harry and Ron tumble down the tube towards the hidden chamber. Could there be snakes here? Water snakes? Rat skulls? God, she didn’t hope so. But of course that wouldn’t be the case. She was not on her way to the chamber of secrets. She wouldn’t encounter any snakes down here. Big or small ones. And hopefully no rat skulls either. But she did encounter more water as she went. The water seemed to rise down here. A moment ago, only her shoes had been wet, and now she suddenly found herself in ankle-deep water. Emma imagined how she would keep walking and walking to end up in waist-deep water. Was she walking straight into some sort of water trap? The thought alone made her walk on her tippy toes. And she was really glad she had done so a moment later when she had to take a long step to avoid walking over something that felt a little strange. A little uneven compared to the rest of the raw stones she was walking on. Emma had no idea what it was, and she wasn’t particularly interested in finding out either. She was only interested in finding out where this tunnel was leading and what she would find. She shivered. The water sloshing against her ankles was very cold. But not entirely unpleasant. Emma liked the sound it made every time she took a step. It made her feel less alone down here. But it probably should make her more alert too. Malena’s words about hidden holes where the water was deeper popped into her mind, as did the knowledge that   
Christine Daaé had drowned. Emma wasn’t the least bit interested in ending up like that. She narrowed her eyes in the darkness, did her best to see even though it was impossible. She would definitely bring a flashlight the next time. She scoffed. What was she thinking? What next time? This wasn’t exactly a cozy picnic or something. This was her acting completely irresponsible and following a crazy curiosity. 

Suddenly she reached a crossroad. The tunnel split into two passages. Left and right. Emma turned her head from side to side and tried to decide which path to choose. Why did this feel like some sort of trap? A test. She bit her lip and strained her ears. Even closed her eyes to really tune in and try to determine whether she could hear something. A clue to which way she should chose. And soon her well trained ears picked up something. When she turned her head to the left, she could hear the sound of water. Dripping from the walls and sloshing on the floor. Not because someone was there, but the   
sound a lake would make. A deep lake. Going that way seemed like a very bad idea. But going to the right, on the other hand.... she could hear something else coming from that direction.   
Music. Yes, as ridiculous as it sounded, that was exactly what Emma could hear. Very faint piano music. Tempting. Alluring. Impossible not to be interested in. She opened her eyes again, squinted slightly, tried to see in the darkness again. It could very well be a trap. Her heart thumped in her chest once more. A way to lure her right into some sort of unknown danger. She took a breath. Filled her lungs with air. Yes, it could be a trap. In fact there was every possibility that this was in fact some sort of ridiculously clever trap. This was how it often went in the thrillers she so enjoyed. The heroine followed a tempting sound and ended up finding herself in some sort of terrible situation that could have been avoided if she only followed her gut feeling. 

But the problem was that Emma’s gut feeling told her to walk in the direction of the beautiful, faint music. So that was exactly what she did. Down and down she went as she followed the music. More and more difficult it became to not accidentally trip over something, but she didn’t care much in her eagerness to get to the bottom of this. Her curiosity peaked and never had she been more unable to resist than she was right now. She simply had to find out where that wonderful music came from. She was blind to everything else. Refused to acknowledge that something so beautiful potentially could be dangerous as well. It didn’t seem dangerous. Not only could she hear faint piano music, but she could also see a very faint light coming from that direction. Rather that. Rather light and music than finding herself in an underground lake she couldn’t get out of. Emma walked faster now. The water sloshed against her ankles, and the breath caught in her throat when her nostrils suddenly was filled with an all too familiar scent. Apples. This scent was something she knew and recognized, and it didn’t fill her with a scent of dread. It rang familiarity. But it also made her slow down and walk softer. There was no reason to come barreling through the tunnel. She wasn’t actually supposed to be here. Not even in the slightest. She was supposed to be peacefully asleep in her bed. Oblivious to the existence of the tunnel behind the mirror. A mystery right under her nose. A mystery she never would have noticed if she hadn’t taken a closer look at the mirror. 

Emma came to an abrupt halt and nearly tripped for the millionth time that night. The narrow tunnel widened into a circular hole. Significantly bigger than the one behind the mirror. This hole was so wide, two adult persons easily could squeeze through at the same time. Emma stepped through the hole, stepped over something that could have been a threshold, jaw dropping and eyes widening as she looked around in the sudden light. There were candles all around. Torches that had been attached to the raw stone wall somehow. The water seemed to rise in here as well. At least it did right by the hole Emma had just stepped through. A little boat was swaying gently back and forward, and Emma’s eyes nearly bulged. A boat. Down here. What on earth? She took another step through the water and glanced around in this underground cave or lair she had found. It was undoubtedly the strangest place she’d ever set foot in. But it was also strangely beautiful with all those candles placed on high candlesticks everywhere. The flames flickered, made the whole place seem as ethereal as the piano music she still could hear playing somewhere in the lair. She took another step and zeroed in on a pile of blankets tugged away in the corner of the lair. Was that supposed to be a bed? It could barely be anything else. 

Emma wished she’d had eight pair of eyes so she could look at everything at once. Her eyes darted from one place to the other, couldn’t stay focused at one thing for long. One moment she was picking up on the blankets in the corner, and the next she spotted the medieval looking chair standing right here on the raw stone floor. One could wonder what on earth a chair like that was doing in an underground lair, but what Emma focused the most on, was the cloak laying draped over the back of the chair. As though someone had nonchalantly shrugged it off their shoulders and left it casually draped over the chair. Emma studied the cloak. Black and made of feathers. Oh so familiar feathers. Next, she spotted the round little table standing in the center of the lair. There was a stack of papers lying on the table. When Emma moved slightly closer, she could see that each and every paper was tightly written. With notes and lyrics. Someone was composing down here. Emma squinted slightly. She didn’t dare moving the papers to take a closer look. She was afraid that the rustling sound would disturb. But she did see the words “the music of the night” written as headline on one of the papers. ‘The Music of the Night’. Beautiful words. Bound to be beautiful music. Whoever had written it, was most likely a very talented composer.   
Emma was dying to just take a teeny tiny look at the lyrics written on the page. But she didn’t dare to. She was so scared she would make herself known if she did that. Because she wasn’t the only one down here. The sound of the piano playing was a dead-set indicator of that. This lair was very much occupied. Emma had absolutely walked into someone’s private space. Emma swallowed something, closed her eyes upon listening to the music being played on the piano. Never had she heard so sad yet beautiful music. Exactly like she had experienced once already, she was filled with a deep sense of longing. After something she couldn’t even describe. There weren’t any word for it. Nor should there be. Not everything needed to be described. 

She had interrupted someone while they were creating. While they were... Composing. Yes. Someone might be composing right now. Emma opened her eyes and finally turned her head, looked to her right. There was the piano standing. Old and battered looking, but still very much able to produce beautiful tones, create wonderful music. And there, playing the piano was a woman. Emma skittered closer to look at the woman sitting there by the piano. She saw long elegant fingers effortlessly glide over the piano keys as she played. She saw the bodice of a dress that appeared to be made of black velvet. The color was the only thing Emma was sure of. She couldn’t see the rest of the woman’s dress. It was completely hidden by the piano. She couldn’t see the woman’s face either. That was hidden by a curtain of long dark hair because of the way her face was bowed over the piano. Emma shifted a little. She was interrupting this woman right in the middle of a private moment, she could instinctively feel that. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t will herself to leave. Not when she was standing right in the middle of the Phantom’s lair. Not when she had found the Phantom of the Opera. 

The Phantom of the Opera who rather looked like an Angel of Music as she sat there by the piano, playing to herself. No, Emma definitely did not want to leave. Not when she could remain standing here and listening to this beautiful music. She wanted to stay here for the rest of the night. Or maybe she just never wanted to leave. Not ever. Emma’s palms went sweaty and she had to wipe them on the back of her dress. She was standing rooted to the spot and it felt as though her heart leapt into her throat when the woman started to sing and accompany the melody she was playing on the piano. Softly, gently and yet crystal clear. Her rich and husky voice whispered through the underground lair:

“Child of the wilderness, born into emptiness; learn to be lonely. Learn to find your way in darkness. Who will be there for you? Comfort and care for you? Learn to be lonely, learn to be your one companion. Never dreamed, out in the world, there are arms to hold you. You’ve always known, your heart was on its own! So laugh in your loneliness, child of the wilderness. Learn to be lonely, learn how to love life that is lived alone...” her long fingers flew over the piano keys as her voice ceased for a moment only to come out as soft and quiet as ever a moment later: “learn to be lonely. Live can be lived, life can be loved, alone....”

Emma gasped. She couldn’t help it. The words completely penetrated her heart and left it wounded in her chest. Never had she heard anything more sad. Never had she heard anything more beautiful. She was feeling a million things at the same time. She wanted to ask the woman a million questions at the same time. Words were tumbling around on her tongue, but she couldn’t find a way to get them out. Nor could she do anything to quieten the bizarre urge to walk over to the woman and touch her. Put a hand on her shoulder and assure her that it would get better. No matter what ‘it’ was, it wouldn’t last forever. 

“Who are you?! What are you doing here?!”

The snap of the woman’s voice hit Emma like a whiplash, and she jolted, squealed and was once again unable to say what she wanted to. “I....I...” she stuttered dumbly. 

“I said, what are you doing here?” the woman repeated. Not quite as loud but still unkindly. Venomously. Like a cobra hissing at you. Showing its teeth before going for the bite.

Emma swallowed hard and could feel beads of sweat trickle down the back of her neck. She didn’t know what to say even though the questions were piling up in her head. ‘Why are you living down here?’ ‘Why are you so sad?’ ‘What did you take in my drawers?’ but most important: ‘why did you not come back? I waited for you, but you never came. Why did you stop showing up? Were you scared that I would tell someone? I’d never do that’. She swallowed again. Her mouth felt dry and her back sticky. The sheer venom in the woman’s voice made her question whether she had in fact walked straight into danger’s arms. 

“You’ve got some nerve!” the woman hissed, and Emma finally found her voice again.

“But you’re the one who’s been in my room,” she said timidly, regretting it immediately. Now probably wasn’t a good time to challenge this woman. She was already angry. Emma was playing with fire. 

The woman laughed chillingly. “Is that so? Are you quite sure you’re not just imagining things? Or perhaps dreaming?”

“I wasn’t!” Emma said a bit defiantly. “You were in my room. You were holding my hand.”

“Was I indeed?” the Phantom said and if Emma didn’t know better, she would say that she was bored. 

“Yes?” Emma said. The one word came out as a question, and she cursed herself for sounding doubtful. But the thing was, she WAS doubtful. The Phantom had planted a seed of doubt in her mind, and suddenly she no longer trusted what was real and what wasn’t. 

“You were. You were!” she said more firmly and tried to sound as steady and dismissive as the Phantom. 

“Maybe I was,” the Phantom said dismissively. “What does it matter?”

“It does matter!”

“Why?” 

“Because.... Because-“

“Fascinating,” she interrupted. “You’ve got your confirmation. Yes, I was there. Now go back to wherever you came from.” 

But Emma wasn’t going anywhere. Not until she had asked one more question. “Why did you stop?”

“Why did I stop what?”

“Coming to my room,” Emma clarified, flushing and feeling it spread from her cheeks to the rest of her body. “Why did you stop?”

Now the Phantom was really laughing. Coldly and without an ounce of humor to it. “Firstly, it’s not ‘your’ room,” she said coolly. “And secondly, you WANT me to come into your room? Are you sure you’re in your right mind, little one?”

“I am not little!” Emma protested as she boldly took a step closer to the piano where the woman was sitting. 

“Could have fooled me,” the Phantom said dryly and completely unphased by Emma’s boost of confidence. 

“Why are you so...” Emma trailed off, not knowing what to say. This woman was so very far from the gentle creature who had held her hand and sung her back to sleep a week ago. 

“Possibly because you come blundering into my home and bothering me,” the Phantom said, and even in her anger, her voice was still beautiful. Still raspy and velvet soft. Had the situation been any different, Emma most definitely would have asked her to keep singing. And never stop.

“Your home?” Emma repeated and looked around in the lair. 

“This has been my home since before you were born,” the woman said, suddenly calm once again. Bored. “And now it’s time for you to go back to where you come from. Go back to your little bed and pretend that this is all a dream. I’m sure that young, impressionable mind of yours will have no problem with believing that come morning. The human mind is ever so...” she didn’t finish the sentence. She just resumed playing the piano. Completely ignoring Emma’s existence.

But Emma still didn’t budge from the spot. Instead she studied the woman intensely. At least studied what she could see of her. The top of the dress she was wearing. Her long fingers still resting on the piano keys. Her long black hair, falling like a curtain and covering her face. This wasn’t like the last time where Emma’s face had been covered by the duvets, but she still had no idea what this woman looked like. And it was killing her. She had to match that voice with a face. She wouldn’t get any peace otherwise. She would always wonder. She chewed at her bottom lip, shifted, kept studying the woman sitting by the piano and pretending she didn’t exist. Emma furrowed her brow. All the questions were still burning on her tongue, but for right now, she settled for just one of them. “Won’t you look at me?” she asked quietly. 

The music stopped abruptly. “Look at you?” the Phantom repeated dully. “You want me to look at you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why?” the other woman asked simply. 

“B-because I want to know what you look like. I’ve- I’ve been thinking about it for so long, and...” 

“You want me to look at you,” the Phantom interrupted, and for some absurd reason she sounded like she was amused. 

“Yes,” Emma confirmed even though it hadn’t been a question.

“Well then,” the Phantom said, long fingers wandering to her long dark hair and brushing it away from her face in a quick, almost aggressive motion. 

Emma let out a too loud gasp that echoed in the quietness of the lair and gripped onto the piano with both hands. Her heart thumped in her chest again. The left side of the woman’s face looked... well, perfect. All golden skin, plump lips and a deep brown eye that seemed to have a certain glow in the lights from all the candles. But the right side of her face- Emma gasped again- the right side of the woman’s face was covered in a white mask. Completely covered. It was impossible to tell what her face looked like underneath the mask. 

The woman slowly lifted her head and looked directly at Emma. Both of her deep brown eyes fixating on Emma’s face, and seeing the right dark eye against the paleness of the mask made Emma think of a ghost. An actual ghost. She feared the mask without fully knowing why. She scrambled backwards away from the piano and the woman sitting by it, nearly stumbling in her eagerness to get away. Her pulse roared in her ear, her heart thumped in her chest, and she struggled to accept that someone could look this terrifying and beautiful at the same time. How was it possible? She wanted to ask but couldn’t find the words. She also wanted to know about the mask. Why the Phantom was wearing it, but her tongue seemed to have crumbled together in her mouth like a dead leaf. She couldn’t get any words out. She didn’t know how.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” the woman asked silkily, almost sweetly and slowly rose from her seat by the piano. 

“I....I,” Emma gulped as she took another few steps backwards, nearly tripping once more. 

“Is it?” the Phantom challenged, mouth almost smiling under the mask. “You were so curious only seconds ago, little one...”

Whether it was the Phantom’s taunting on the mask covering one half of her face, Emma didn’t know. But she did know that she couldn’t possibly take anymore tonight. Shock and exhaustion seeped through her bones as her legs caved in. The lair swam and swayed before her eyes for a second before she surrendered her body and mind to the darkness suddenly surrounding her. Down and down she fell through a spiral of muffled sounds and nothingness. Down and down, without caring that the Phantom rapidly was coming towards her......

To Be Continued.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you think the Phantom ate her for dinner? XD


	12. I Remember......

”Emma? Emma?!”

Emma’s eyes snapped open and her head jerked up so fast she felt her world spin for a moment and had to close her eyes again. Her thoughts were all over the place, and for a moment she didn’t quite know where to start. She was in her room, that much was obvious. She was warm and snug in her bed, cozied up under her duvets and with her head resting against the pillow. Everything was as it should be. 

But if that was the case, then why was Lily banging on her door and yelling her name. That didn’t make sense at all. 

“Emma? Emma?!” 

“Y-Yeah?” Emma called back and noted that her voice was raspy. 

“Are you alright?!” Lily demanded, and then in the same breath: “I’m coming in!” Before Emma could get the chance to speak, the door to her room was flung open and Lily came rushing in. Her dark eyes were wide as she looked at Emma. “Are you alright?!”

“Yes?” Emma said as she sat up in bed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s eleven o’clock!” Lily said. “You never showed up for breakfast or rehearsal! I was so fucking worried about you!”

Emma swung her legs out of bed. “It’s eleven o’clock?! I overslept?! But I never-“ she stopped talking when everything suddenly came rushing back to her. A stumbling walk through a hidden passageway somewhere below the opera. Water soaking her pretty white shoes. Tempting music urging her to continue. A rich and husky voice. A woman playing piano. A white mask. Her fear. The feeling of the world blurring before her eyes. Instinctively, Emma lifted a hand, brought it up to first the back of her head where she would have felt a bump if she had fallen backwards, and then to her forehead where there would have been an injury if she had fallen face first. But there was nothing. Not on her forehead. Not in the back of her head. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and did her best to hold on to the foggy memories before they disappeared like sand slipping through her fingers. She remembered fearing the white mask covering one half of the woman’s face. She remembered the Phantom coming towards her. She remembered her knees caving in as exhaustion and fear finally got the best of her. But she didn’t remember actually hitting the floor. 

Another memory flittered through her mind, and Emma struggled to hold on to it. She didn’t remember hitting the floor because she hadn’t. Now as she forced herself to cling to the memory, she vaguely remembered strong arms gripping her upper ones. Strong arms catching her right before she fell. Emma remembered the way her almost limp body had jerked as the Phantom......lifted her? Carried her? 

She must have. Otherwise how could Emma be back in her bed? If the Phantom hadn’t interfered in some way, Emma would still be in the underground lair. Most likely face down on the hard floor. 

Emma felt a stab of disappointment. WHY was she here and not in that underground lair still? She wasn’t done talking to the Phantom. She still had things she wanted to ask her. She groaned as she felt the memories slowly slip away from her.

“Emma? Em, are you okay?”

Lily’s concerned words penetrated the foggy memories, and Emma realized that she had shielded her face in her hands. Probably not the most reassuring thing to do when someone was worried about you. She hastily removed her hands from her face and looked up at Lily. What was she gonna say? That she was fine and had just overslept? Emma wasn’t sure she could even lie her way through that explanation. She didn’t oversleep. Not ever. 

But before she could get the chance to say anything, Lily beat her to it and asked her a question: “why are you still wearing your clothes?”

Emma quickly glanced down at herself. Oh. She was in fact still wearing her white chorus dress. Of course that didn’t do much to back up the “I’m fine”-story, but still, she was relieved that the Phantom woman didn’t go as far as undressing her after putting her to bed... Emma felt herself blush unexpectedly. 

“Emma?”

Emma quickly looked back up at her friend. “I’m...” god, she wasn’t even sure what the next sentence should be! Emma rarely did, but right now, she was really struggling. But she had to say something. Anything. Lily was standing there and looked so worried. Emma had to say something. A few magical words that could let her friend off the hook. “I was so tired last night I fell asleep before I could change out of my dress.”

Lily stared, and Emma cringed. Whatever she had meant to say, should have been something different than THAT. Now Lily was probably wondering even more. Emma had to keep talking. This was in no way a satisfying explanation. “I had a headache,” she continued. “A really bad one.”

“Oh,” Lily said, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. That little “oh” was enough to let her know that she had managed to say the right thing. Finally. A headache made perfect sense. 

“Are you feeling any better now then?” Lily asked concerned, and Emma was relieved that she actually did have a headache. She hated lying. 

“I actually still have a bit of a headache,” she said, thanking her lucky stars that her voice sounded so hoarse and raspy. It added to the pretense that she was actually ill. 

“You do look a bit pale,” Lily observed. “Do you want me to go and get my mum or something?”

“No-no, that’s not necessary,” Emma said. “I’m okay. I just have to get up and-“ but when she tried to stand from the bed, a wave of dizziness hit her, and she had to sit back down. Maybe she was a little ruffled after passing out last night. 

“Woah,” Lily said as she took a step forward as though she wanted to help Emma. “You’re not okay at all, Swan!”

Emma felt tempted to agree. “But I have to get up and... do stuff. I’ve missed out on breakfast and the first lesson!”

“Never mind that,” Lily said firmly. “You’re not feeling well, Em. Of course you shouldn’t attend the lessons today. I’ll tell mum that you’re sick. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But I-“

“Nope,” Lily said firmly and then smiled a little. “Em, come on, I know how committed you are, but you look like someone who’s been left outside overnight.” She laughed sweetly to show that she wasn’t trying to be mean, and Emma, who couldn’t possibly concentrate on singing or interacting with anyone today, flashed a vague smile. Maybe being “sick” for the day wasn’t so bad. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Lily continued. “Are you hungry or anything?”

“I actually am a little bit hungry,” Emma nodded. 

Lily smiled. “I’ll find you a sandwich or something. And a cup of tea. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring mum up here?”

“No!” Emma cringed again. “I mean, it’s just a bit of headache. She doesn’t have to be around for that. I just need to lie down in a dark room for a little bit, and I’ll be fine. I think I’ll be okay to come down for dinner.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll be right back,” Lily said. She patted Emma sympathetically on the shoulder and then left Emma’s room.

Emma sat quietly on her bed, rubbing the back of her head like she actually had been injured. But she hadn’t. The Phantom had caught her before her head could hit the hard stone floor. Emma found that to be curious. The Phantom hadn’t exactly been kind to her during the short interaction in the underground lair. In fact she had been cruel to Emma. Cold and hard. And yet she had prevented Emma from falling over and potentially injuring herself. Why was that? The Phantom had snapped and sneered and been really mean, but instead of attacking her like Emma naively had thought she would, she had caught her and gathered her in her arms, preventing her from falling and hitting her head. And then carrying her all the way back to her room. All the way through the underground passageway. She could have left Emma laying helpless on the floor or maybe even have gotten rid of her in the underground lake- Emma shivered- but she hadn’t. She had helped her instead. Showed her kindness. 

Emma wiggled her feet. Her bare feet. Where were her shoes? She had been wearing shoes last night, she was sure of that. She could remember that. Maybe she had dropped them when the Phantom lifted her. Or they could have fallen off when the Phantom carried her back through the underground tunnel. But after a brief moment, Emma spotted her white ballerina shoes. They were standing neatly placed underneath the heater. That had to be the Phantom’s doing. Emma smiled a little now. Not only had the Phantom caught her before she fell and carried her back to bed. But she had also taken off Emma’s wet shoes and placed them underneath the heater to prevent them from getting ruined. That was definitely kindness. Emma had no doubts about that. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and a second later Lily appeared. She was carrying a tray with a sandwich and a cup of tea on it. And a chocolate bar. “That’s from mum,” she explained when she saw Emma look at the chocolate bar. “I told her you weren’t feeling that great, and she said that chocolate is the best way to cure a headache.” The brunette chuckled slightly. “And she asked if you have aspirin up here? Otherwise you just have to tell me, and I’ll fetch you some.”

“Thanks, but I do have aspirin,” Emma said, remembering how her own mom thoughtfully had stuffed not two but three bottles of aspirin into her suitcase. Emma had felt like that was taking it a step too far, but her mom had insisted. It was better to be safe than sorry. 

“Great,” Lily said, smiling again. “Anyway, mum sends her love and hope that you’ll feel better at dinner time.”

“I’m sure I will,” Emma said and smiled. “Thank you for bringing me the food. And tell your mum thank you for the chocolate bar.”

“I will.” Lily sat the tray down on the little bedside table. “Feel better, okay?” 

I will,” Emma said, mirroring Lily’s words. 

Lily disappeared out of her room again, and Emma immediately grabbed the sandwich and greedily took a big bite of it. Man, she was hungry! Couldn’t remember the last time she had been this hungry.   
Maybe this was something that happened after you had fainted or something. Maybe you just naturally were more hungry after a dizzy spell. She took another big bite of the sandwich. Ham and cheese. Mmm! This was a very good sandwich. Possibly the best sandwich she had ever tasted. At least that was how it felt like right now. After having chewed her way through the big bite, she took a sip of the scorching hot tea. She spluttered a little but still managed to swallow the hot beverage. Apparently, she was incredibly thirsty as well. She felt like some sort of greedy animal as she took one bite of the toast, one mouthful of tea and then repeated the motion until the sandwich was gone and her cup of tea was half-empty. Gosh, she really had been hungry on this particular morning! It had to be the shock. The surprise over finding a woman in the underground lair. Emma remembered the white mask covering one half of the woman’s face. She remembered her shock and fear. And wished that she hadn’t reacted like that. She wished that her initial reaction hadn’t been to stumble backwards and gasp in fear. Her changed emotions had something to do with being back in the safety of her own room, and everything to do with the kindness the Phantom had shown her. 

As Emma thought back to last night’s events, she started to see everything from the Phantom’s point of view. Emma had just been some dumb little girl who had stumbled into her home without having been invited. A dumb little girl who had been asking questions and then proceeding to faint like a melodramatic princess when the Phantom had done as she asked. Let Emma look at her. 

Emma shook her head. She really hadn’t been particularly polite last night. She could see that now. Coming stumbling, asking questions and then fainting on the spot just because of a white mask. And the Phantom had rewarded her stupidity with carrying her back to safety. Maybe she had been cold and brash, but she hadn’t left Emma to her fate in a cold underground tunnel. Or dumped her in a deep underground lake. That was what a true villain would have done. But the Phantom hadn’t. Which meant that she wasn’t a villain. She couldn’t be that bad. Emma looked down at her hands and listened to the content sounds her now full belly made. But what about the Phantom hiding somewhere below the opera? How did she get any food? She probably used the mirror in Emma’s room as a passageway, but how did she manage to sneak around unseen? She would have to be pretty quick. The kitchens were pretty far from here. And she probably couldn’t carry that much food when she had to walk all the way back to Emma’s room and the mirror. If the Phantom carried too much food, there was a chance she would drop some of it and make too much noise. Ergo, she only carried very little food. And then she would have to wait until the next night to repeat the action. Emma quickly deduced that the Phantom-woman most likely didn’t get that much to eat, and she hated the idea that the woman who had basically saved her, was starving. Emma didn’t want to let that stand. She couldn’t let that stand. She was overwhelmed with the urge to help this Phantom like she had helped her. But how? She wracked her tired brain for a moment, thought carefully about what she could do. And then her gaze landed on the chocolate bar still on the tray. 

Emma smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was chocolate. Everyone liked chocolate, right? She reached forward and grabbed the chocolate bar. Then she swiftly hopped out of bed. Felt dizzy for a second and stopped to take a breath. Once the world had stopped blurring, she determinately continued over to the large mirror. She wasn’t so sure how the Phantom would react to seeing her again, but she naively told herself that the chocolate bar in her hand would make everything better. No one could say no to chocolate. 

Emma noted that the mirror had been pushed back in place. Of course it had. Of course the Phantom was trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. That made perfect sense.

Emma gripped onto the edge of the mirror and gave it a little push. Nothing happened. Okay. Well, the mirror hadn't been properly pushed back last night. Pushing it aside hadn't been difficult at all when it had been like that, but now that it had been pushed back in place, it clearly took a little extra time and effort. But that was okay.

She gave it another push. A push that was just a little bit harder. Nothing happened. Stubborn old mirror. She gave it a half-hard shove. Nothing happened. Starting to feel frustrated, Emma abandoned using her hand and gave the mirror an almighty shove with her shoulder instead. When nothing happened, she repeated the motion and bit her lip from not crying out in pain. It felt like she was on the verge of dislocating her shoulder. She was starting to fear the worst. That she actually wouldn't be able to push the mirror back and reveal the hidden passageway behind it.

And absolutely nothing happened. The mirror didn’t move. Not even an inch.

“No!” Emma muttered. She didn’t want to face reality. And reality was that the mirror had been blocked. By the Phantom. The meaning behind the action was crystal clear: the Phantom was not interested in seeing Emma’s surprise visit repeated today. Or any day for that matter. By blocking the mirror, she had put an effective stop to it. Feeling her bottom lip jut out, Emma grew frustrated. The tell-tale lump in her throat certainly proved as much. Why was she always on the verge of tears when she was frustrated or upset? Why couldn’t she just be angry like any one else? 

“This isn’t fair!” she said to the unmovable mirror and gave it another push for good measurement. Of course nothing happened. Well, nothing except the old mirror clattering in its frame. Grumbling under her breath, Emma tore the paper off the chocolate bar and stuffed the sweet dessert inside her mouth. The chocolate tasted good, but Emma was too frustrated to fully appreciate it. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She had just wanted to say thank you to the Phantom. And apologize for her immature reaction to the mask. That was all. She hadn’t meant any harm. She ran her hand up and down the old mirrors frame. Maybe the Phantom was afraid that she would tell her friends about it. Maybe she feared that Emma and her friends would come through the passage as though on an exciting excursion. 

But Emma had already decided that she wouldn’t tell anyone about this. Not a single soul. She would keep the Phantom’s secret. She sighed as she looked at the mirror. This couldn’t be the end. She didn’t want it to be the end. If only she hadn’t fainted like a fool. If only she hadn’t become afraid of the mask. Maybe the Phantom wouldn’t have blocked the pathway if that was the case. Emma cursed herself. Why did she have to gasp and faint like that? After all, it was just a mask. Emma had seen people in masks before. Why was this so different? She pursed her lips. Because this particular mask was covering one half of the woman’s face. Why was that? Emma felt so curious and wondered if Christine had asked herself the same questions. Because of course Christine had met the woman in the underground lair. The Opera Garnier was big, but not big enough for two Phantom’s. 

Emma chuckled a bit, but it didn’t take long before the image of Christine face down in the underground lake popped into her mind. Christine had drowned. Christine had wandered around in the crypts. Christine had known the Phantom of the Opera, and-

No. Emma firmly shook her head. She didn’t want to believe that the woman she’d met in the underground lair last night had had anything to do with Christine’s death. It was possible that they’d known each other, that the Phantom had taught Christine to sing, but kill her? No matter how hard she tried, Emma couldn’t get that image to fit in her head. First of all, why would the Phantom want to murder the girl she had taught to sing? A teacher-student relationship demanded a certain bond between two people, right? And judging by what Christine had told Ruby, there had been this kind of teacher-student bond between her and the Phantom. A mutual understanding. The Phantom murdering Christine wouldn’t make sense. Unless there had been some sort of altercation between the two of them. But what altercation would cause someone to murder another human being? Surely, no action demanded that kind of conclusion, right? 

Emma pursed her lips. If she really used her imagination, she supposed that the Phantom and Christine could have argued. Maybe it had been a really bad argument. Maybe nasty things had been said in the heat of the moment. Maybe Christine had accidentally ended up threatening to expose the Phantom to the outside world? Or... Maybe it had all been an accident. Maybe there HAD been an altercation, but maybe Christine had fled the lair in tears. Maybe she had accidentally ran the wrong way because she was blinded by tears? Or maybe she had simply stumbled into the underground lake by mistake? Fallen right into one of those deep dark pits there could be in the water and had been unable to get up? Yes. It could definitely have happened like that. There were actually a very good chance that it had happened like that. Accidents happened, and unfortunately, some accidents were fatal and horrible and pointless. 

Emma shook her head when she realized that she was wracking her brain to come up with five hundred good reason why the mysterious woman underground was not guilty of murdering Christine Daaé. 

Had this Phantom been a cold-hearted killer she would have grabbed Emma and dumped her in the lake. But she had carried her back to bed instead. Emma moved her hand away from the old mirror. Why was it so important to her that this woman wasn’t guilty? Why was it so important to convince herself that the Phantom didn’t kill Christine Daaé? 

Because Emma didn’t want her to be a killer. Plain and simple. She didn’t want the Phantom to be guilty of murder. There had to be another explanation. She let out a deep sigh as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. An explanation she would never get because the Phantom had blocked the mirror. And that really wasn’t fair. Emma really truly hadn’t meant any harm. She had just been curious.   
And she just wanted to another chance to talk to the mysterious woman. 

Frustrated, Emma gave the mirror another shove and grunted in pain. She probably shouldn’t do that. The only type of result she would end up with, was an injured shoulder. She sighed as she walked back to the bed and sat down heavily. The disappointment made her stomach feel heavy, and her head throbbed slightly. Most likely   
because she had been up late the previous night. Either way, she was starting to feel tired again. But as opposed to just slipping into bed, she chose to get up and find a pajamas in her dresser. She couldn’t sleep in her pretty chorus dress again. It was bad enough that she already had done that once. She put her pajamas on and then carefully folded the dress and stuffed it inside the dresser. Then she climbed back into bed, made herself comfortable and pulled the covers up to her chin. She didn’t feel that bad for going to sleep in the middle of the day. Officially, she had a headache, so there was nothing weird about taking an extra nap. She just hoped that she would be able to sleep, though. The disappointment was burning in her stomach like an ulcer, and she couldn’t stop glancing over at the mirror in the hopes that the barrier behind it magically would have disappeared if she went over and checked just one more time. But she knew that wouldn’t happen. Nor would she get out of bed to check. That wouldn’t be fair to herself. She would just have to somehow accept that this somehow was the end of it. The end of her very, very brief investigation concerning the mysterious Phantom of the Opera. 

Emma sighed again. This really wasn’t fair. She still had so many things she wanted to ask the woman about. And now she couldn’t. She doubted that the Phantom would come back to her room anytime soon if ever. She would probably find new ways to move around in the opera. 

Emma rolled onto her side, so she was facing the wall instead. Better than staring at the mirror. But it didn’t help much, though. Now she imagined hearing the sound of the mirror sliding aside and the rustling of the Phantom’s dress as she walked through. Emma didn’t even know the woman’s name. She hadn’t done much to find out last night. She had been too busy stumbling backwards and fainting just because the Phantom was wearing a mask. Emma huffed in annoyance. Why had the mask frightened her so? And WHY was the Phantom wearing a mask? Was her intention to scare, or was the mask there for a reason? Emma couldn’t figure it out, and the images of the woman in the mask was starting to blur in her mind. She couldn’t stay focused or awake for much longer.......

When Emma awoke again, a quick glance at her alarm clock told her that it was early evening now. Almost dinner time. She had to come down for dinner. Otherwise Lily and Malena would think that she was properly sick. Emma sighed as she sat up in bed and rubbed her face. She felt even more out of it than before. She’d had weird dreams. Weird dreams about a woman in a white mask hiding in plain sight in the shadows. But then the dream had changed to a more familiar one. Emma had dreamed of her grandmother, Eva. The white haired woman had taken Emma’s hand, squeezed it gently and told her that she shouldn’t be afraid. Emma rubbed her face again. Those had been weird dreams indeed. And it had made her miss her grandmother again. Grief was a strange thing. You think you’re fine, but then you have a dream and suddenly, the grief is sitting right in your chest all over again. Emma doubted that she ever truly would be over the loss of her grandmother. She missed her. And as she sat there on her bed and tried to come to it, she decided to head down to the crypt and light a candle after dinner. She wasn’t sure it would do anything to relieve the aching sensation of grief in her chest, but she would try it anyway. 

After another moment, she finally got out of bed. Walked to the dresser, pulled it open and found a more casual grey dress. Her white dress could probably do with being ironed. Emma reminded herself to borrow a ironing board from Belle tonight. With the grey dress and a fresh set of underwear and stockings slung over her arm, Emma went to have a quick shower. She felt a little better awards. Being clean always helped with everything. She tied her wet hair back in a ponytail, applied just a hint of mascara to her lashes and then slipped her glasses on. The world immediately became sharp and focused. This felt lots better. If only she could fully let go of the dream she’d had about her grandmother. Dreaming about her beloved grandmother after the strange night she’d had was almost too much. Emma squared her shoulders, tipped up her chin and remembered what she had planned. To head down to the crypt and light a candle and take a few moments to remember her grandmother. She chose to believe that she would feel so much better afterwards. Once she had allowed herself to remember and be a little sad. She would be fine. She was fine. 

No, she wasn’t. She was weirded out after her distorted dreams, and she was still dreadfully disappointed. Emma glanced towards the old mirror again. Felt tempted to go over there and give it another push but resisted the temptation. Why delve deeper into the disappointment? She would just have to accept it and move on. That was the fastest way to get over a disappointment, Emma knew that. But did the standard approach also include Phantom-women who were hiding in a secret lair underground? 

Emma wasn’t so sure about that. 

Emma left her room and went through the hallway to get downstairs to the canteen. When she reached the threshold, she met Mr. Gold. This time she didn’t run into him, though, but smiled politely at the owner of the opera as she stepped aside. Mr. Gold returned the smile, and after having remembered why he was here today, Emma silently cursed herself. Of course. He had been attending the evening rehearsals at the big scene. Emma had known for a week, and she had been looking forward to performing along with the rest of the ensemble. And now she had missed her chance because she had been asleep. Apparently, today was a day for disappointments. 

But someone who wasn’t disappointed when she showed up, was Lily. The brunette flashed Emma a big smile and asked if she felt better. Emma said that yes, she did feel better. Which wasn’t a lie. Not really. Physically, she was fine. Healthy as a horse. But mentally she did feel a little....battered. Annoyed because she hadn’t been there to sing when Mr. Gold was there. A bit upset over dreaming about her beloved grandmother for the second time in a very short time. And gnawingly disappointed over the blocked mirror in her bedroom. But obviously, that wasn’t something Lily should know about. 

Emma just settled for flashing her friend a smile and then once again thanking her for the sandwich and tea. Lily brushed the thank you’s aside and stated that she was just happy that Emma was feeling better after that nasty headache. Emma felt a little guilty. She DID have a headache earlier, but that hadn’t been her main reason for wanting to stay in her room. Now missing out on singing in front of Mr. Gold with the other members of the choir felt like well-deserved karma for lying to her friend. Emma poked at the stew they were having for dinner. 

“Not hungry?” Lily asked concerned. 

Emma was quick to smile. “I am. I’m just trying to wake up. Maybe I shouldn’t have slept all day.”

Lily chuckled now. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better, Em.”

“Yeah. Me too.” to prove how much better she truly felt, Emma scooped a spoonful of the stew up and took a bite. It tasted good, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she didn’t really have an appetite. To make up for having lied to Lily, she told her how she disappointed she was over not having been there when Mr. Gold watched them sing. 

“Oh,” Lily said, reaching across the table and patting Emma’s hand. “Don’t worry, Em. He’ll come and hear us sing again next Friday.”

Emma actually perked up at that. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really,” Lily smiled. “You didn’t miss out on anything.”

Emma breathed a sigh of relief and actually felt a bit hungrier after that. But she still felt like a liar. So she told Lily about the dream she’d had about her grandmother. Lily sympathized with her and asked if she wanted to come and hang out after dinner, but Emma lied a little bit again. She smiled and reassured that she would be fine. That she wasn’t upset. Just a little.... you know. She didn’t tell Lily about her plans going down to the crypt and lightening a candle. Instead she said that she would probably go to bed early.

Lily understood that too. And deciding that she had talked enough about herself, Emma steered the conversation towards more normal topics. The weather, the stew they were eating, and the concert for the parents they would be having in a couple of months. Lily was nervous. But mostly because she wasn’t sure whether her dad would be showing up or not. Apparently, he was “flaky” as she put it. She didn’t see him that often, but he had promised to come to the concert. 

Emma had done her best to lift her friend’s spirit. Had told her that she was sure her dad would show up to hear Lily sing. Why wouldn’t he? Anything else would be a crappy move, and Lily smiled, patted Emma’s hand again and thanked her for being an awesome friend. Emma smiled back but shifted uneasily on her chair. With all the lying she had been doing lately, she didn’t feel like a particularly good friend. Quite the reverse, actually. 

While they were sitting and chitchatting, Malena appeared and patted Emma’s shoulder as she asked if she was feeling any better. Emma put on a smile as she told Malena that she did feel better. The headache was almost gone, and she was sorry that she had missed out on so much of today’s rehearsals and homework. Malena said that she didn’t have to worry about it. Everyone got sick once in a while, it was completely fine. As long as Emma felt better. Emma’s smile widened at the motherly care and concern Malena showed her, and she once again assured that she was fine. Malena patted her shoulder again and slipped her another chocolate bar. Lily sweetly teased about favoritism, but Malena just went “shh” and instructed both Emma and Lily to never tell anyone about it. Both of them laughed as they promised never to tell anyone about “the chocolate incident”, and once Malena had gone, Emma slipped the chocolate bar inside the pocket of her dress. She wanted to save it for later, she decided. Save it for when she was back in her bed with a good book. Emma loved eating chocolate while reading.

“That was nice of her to bring me chocolate,” Emma said with a smile. 

“You’re her protégée,” Lily chuckled. “She feels very responsible for you. And while it might seem cute now, I promise you, it’ll annoy the living hell out of you in a couple of months when you start to open your eyes to Paris’ night life.”

Emma laughed along with her friend, but she could scarcely imagine herself taking an interest in Paris’ night life. She was fine with staying home and reading and being a good protégé. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she realized why Malena felt so responsible for her. Considered what happened to her last protégé. 

Emma excused the sudden shiver with “after dinner shivers” and nothing else. Yes, she was still absolutely fine. Of course she was. 

*******************************

After having finished dinner, Emma followed through with her plans and found her way down to the crypt to light a candle for her grandmother. Maybe she would call her mom once she got back to her room. She could need to hear her mom’s voice after the crazy night she had last night. She would make herself a cup of hot chocolate and climb to bed with one of her books. Be good to herself. She had definitely deserved that. 

Down in the crypt, Emma lit a candle and did her utmost to not look at the picture of Christine hanging on the wall and the written text underneath it. ‘To our friend, Christine Daaé’. Emma felt like she had been thinking enough about Christine Daaé today. She also did her best not to remember her first visit to this crypt. The first time where she had lit a candle for her grandmother and had heard the Phantom’s voice. Emma really did try to force the memory out of her mind as she stood and looked at the flickering candle. But as soon as the thought had popped into her head, she couldn’t let it go again. That first odd and slightly frightening conversation she’d had with the Phantom right here in this crypt. Emma shook her head as though THAT would make the memory go away, but it didn’t help anything. She kept thinking back to that conversation, back to yesterday where she for the first time had lain eyes on the mysterious Phantom. Why hadn’t she made an effort to get a better look? The image of the mysterious, mask-clad woman was already starting to fade from Emma’s mind, and honestly, that scared her a little bit. She wasn’t completely sure why, but she didn’t want to forget the Phantom. The scary version who had been singing and taunting her was easily replaced with the woman who had carried her back to the safety in her room instead of leaving her to her fate in the underground lake or the cold, damp passageway. 

Emma blinked when she realized that she was looking at the picture of Christine rather than looking at the candle she had lit for her grandmother. That was completely wrong. She came here to remember her grandmother. Not thinking about the mystery that was Christine Daaé. Emma quickly turned away from the photograph and glanced at her reflection in the old mirror. Despite the makeup and the taming of her hair, she still looked a bit worse for wear. Her eyes looked a bit glassy behind her glasses, and there were dark circles underneath them. You could tell that she had a strange night. 

Her hair was already getting curly and unruly around the edges. Also, her cheeks seemed to be a bit pale. Emma lifted a hand and pinched her left cheek in an attempt to bring a bit of color to the pale flesh. But it didn’t really work. Her cheeks remained pale, and her reflection bleak. Maybe she shouldn’t have looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection wasn’t the most encouraging sight. Emma hollowed her cheeks and then blew the air out harshly as she scowled at her reflection in the mirror. Stupid, old mirror! Stupid old mirror telling the truth about how terrible she looked today! 

Mirror. Something niggled in the back of Emma’s still confused head, and it took her a moment to realize what that “something” was. The memory of her conversation with the Phantom in this crypt came back to her, and Emma realized that the answer was quite literally staring her in the face. The Phantom wasn’t a ghost. She was a real, breathing human being. Emma had seen as much yesterday. She couldn’t walk through walls and talk or taunt or sing when she wasn’t physically close. No one, not even the Phantom was capable of that. There was a reasonable explanation for the Phantom’s ability to having been able to have a conversation with Emma the first time she was down here. And- Emma suddenly remembered the still reeking candle under Christine’s photograph- there was also a reasonable explanation for the Phantom’s ability to make a quick getaway right before Emma stepped in here. Oh yes, a very reasonable explanation!

Emma narrowed her eyes as she looked at the seemingly innocent mirror in front of her. Reached out and touched the glass. No one was able to walk to walls or talk from afar. Not even the Phantom of the Opera. She tapped her fist lightly against the glass. 

“I think you might be more than just a mirror,” she said quietly. “So much more.” she carefully examined the frame. This mirror was quite similar to the one in her room. Not as big, but with the same frame-system. And maybe, just maybe, it was similar to the mirror in her room in other ways too. God, she hoped she wasn’t wrong about this! Her heart started to hammer in her chest as she lifted her suddenly sweaty palms and gave the mirror in front of her a push.

At first nothing happened. Exactly like nothing had happened when she tried pushing at the mirror in her room, and Emma immediately felt discouraged. But she didn’t want to give up quite yet. She willed herself to try one more time. She gnashed her teeth and ignored the growing pain in her arm as she used her shoulder to push against the mirror, and as she groaned and complained under her breath, she felt the mirror rattle in its frame. Emma couldn’t hold back a smile as she pushed even harder. The mirror slid aside and revealed a passageway. Exactly like Emma had hoped but hadn’t dared believing. Feeling giddy, she stepped aside and looked at the secret passage she had just revealed. It was slightly smaller, but certainly big enough for her to crawl through it. Her heart hammered in her chest again, and she looked behind her. She couldn’t see anyone, couldn’t hear anyone. Now was pretty much the perfect time to disappear. No one knew that she was down here. Never had there been a better time to disappear. 

But.... Emma pursed her lips as she looked at the passage behind the mirror. The Phantom had blocked the passage behind Emma’s mirror for a reason. She didn’t want any visits. How would she react when she discovered that Emma had found a way back to her anyway? Wouldn’t she get terribly angry? What happened when the Phantom got angry? Emma swallowed thickly and brushed her sweaty palm over her dress and felt the chocolate bar still in her pocket. She thought of her original plan about bringing the Phantom some food. She could be hungry. Emma still stood by her previous thoughts. That the Phantom probably didn’t get enough to eat. And no one could say no to chocolate, right? 

After having glanced one more time behind her, Emma decided “the hell with it”, and for the second time in her life, she walked through a mirror and into the hidden passage behind it.......

To Be Continued..........


	13. Insolent Girl

For the second time in her life, Emma looked around in a dark, deserted passageway. And she was equally as less prepared for it as she had been the last time. True, her grey dress had long sleeves, but they didn’t do much to shield her from the coldness of the passageway. The sleeves were thin. She was wearing no coat. And she certainly hadn’t brought a flash light with her this time either. Emma briefly glanced back at the passageway. Should she go back to find the necessary equipment’s? 

No. Emma didn’t want to waste time. Suppose the Phantom found out that she’d been here and then blocked the entranced while Emma was up in her room to find her phone and a coat. That would be so, so unfortunate! Emma didn’t want to risk that. So she pushed the back of the mirror back where it belonged. Now the tunnel was pitch black, and Emma had to take a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness here. It didn’t escape her notice that this tunnel appeared to be narrower than the one she had walked through last night. She took a deep breath as she took a hesitant step away from the “magic mirror” she had just climbed through. Now there was only one way to go. And that was forward. 

“Here we go again,” she mumbled to herself as she started her stumbling forward. She couldn’t quite believe that she was doing this again. There was a reason the Phantom had blocked the entrance to the tunnel behind Emma’s mirror. She did not want Emma to come back. How would she react when she discovered that Emma had found another way back? She would get angry. Very angry. Maybe even shout at her. Emma hated when people shouted at her. When she was younger it always made her cry. Later she had learned to control her tear ducts a little better, but she still hated when people yelled at her. And there was a good chance the Phantom would. A very good chance. Emma tried imagining it. Imagining the mask-wearing woman yelling at her, and when she shivered it had nothing to do with the cold. But as much as she feared the Phantom’s reaction to her “repeat performance”, she couldn’t contain her curiosity either. Sating her curiosity ranked higher than fearing the Phantom’s wrath. As she walked, Emma tried to justify her return to the Phantom’s lair. She didn’t mean any harm by coming back. She really, truly didn’t. All she wanted was to apologize for fainting the last time. And- Emma felt the weight of the chocolate bar in her pocket- offer the Phantom something to eat. Something sweet. A peace offering. And then she would leave. Walk away and never come back if that was what the Phantom wanted. Emma felt an unexpected twinge at that and hoped.... Well, she didn’t know exactly what she hoped. That the Phantom wouldn’t chase her out of the lair. That wouldn’t be very nice. One could so easily get lost in these underground tunnels. Emma shivered again. This time it was the thought of the underground lake that brought it on. That deep, black underground lake you so easily could drown in....

“Pull yourself together, Swan,” Emma scolded herself. She was NOT gonna end up in any old underground lake! She was going to be just fine. And maybe the Phantom’s wrath wouldn’t be so bad either. 

Emma naively imagined that the Phantom hadn’t blocked off this other entrance because she was secretly hoping that Emma would figure it out and come back. But then she scoffed. Maybe she was naïve, but she wasn’t stupid. Of course the Phantom wasn’t hoping that she would come back. Why would she? She had been so mad last night when Emma had suddenly been standing in her home. Home. How could anyone consider an underground lair to be their “home”? That didn’t make sense to Emma. Why was the Phantom living in an underground lair underneath the opera? That was one of the questions   
Emma wished she was brave enough to ask the mysterious, mask-clad woman. And what was her name? That was another of the questions Emma so desperately wanted answers to. The Phantom claimed that she didn’t have a name, but Emma didn’t believe that. Everyone had a name. Even the mysterious Phantom of the Opera. Emma caught herself wondering whether Christine had known the Phantom’s real name. She had known the Phantom. That’s what she had told Ruby. So there was a fair chance that she had indeed known the Phantom’s real name. Had Christine trusted the Phantom? And vice versa, had the Phantom trusted Christine? Emma wanted to know that too. She wanted to know about the singing lessons the Phantom had given Christine. She wanted to know how the Phantom had transformed “a rusty hinge” into a nightingale. That sort of thing shouldn’t even be possible. But apparently, it was. Christine had taken the stage as the solo soprano on her big night. And then Christine had vanished.   
But Emma didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead she thought about how Christine had met the Phantom in the first place. Had she stumbled on the passageway behind the mirror by accident much like Emma and then ventured through it exactly like Emma? Christine had been a curious girl, Ruby had told Emma so. So maybe she had found the passage exposed and decided to see where it ended.   
That could have happened. Or maybe the Phantom had done what she had done to Emma. Teased and taunted her. Frightened her. That was a possibility too. But if that was the case, then how come the Phantom had ended up tutoring Christine? If Christine had felt as though someone was watching her in her room, she would have told someone, right? She would have told Malena. Her guardian. That’s what any smart person would do. But Christine hadn’t. Because the Phantom was still hiding in the underground lair. So maybe it hadn’t happened like that. Maybe the Phantom hadn’t scared Christine. 

Maybe.... Maybe the Phantom and Christine had been *friends*. Emma scoffed a little to herself. The Phantom hadn’t seem very friendly last night. But the mysterious teacher-student thing between the Phantom and Christine wasn’t the only thing niggling in the back of Emma’s mind. The thievery of whatever had been in that locked drawer in her room did too. She had been extremely busy convincing herself that the Phantom hadn’t been responsible for Christine’s death. But if that was the case, why sneak into Emma’s room and take something from that drawer? Something that had undoubtedly belonged to Christine. No one else had lived in that room until Emma arrived. There had been something in that drawer that belonged to Christine. And the Phantom had taken it. Why? No matter what had been in that drawer, Emma couldn’t deny that taking it was an incriminating act. The Phantom had tried to cover her tracks in some way. And Emma didn’t like it. She had decided that the Phantom was innocent, and she didn’t like being faced with anything that might work against that belief. She didn’t WAN’T the Phantom to be guilty.

Emma had one hand on the wall as she continued her little adventure. Here she was in a dark tunnel for the second time in her life. Not exactly what she had imagined when she arrived here at the Opera Garnier. But then again, she hadn’t exactly expected to hear a strange woman sing to her or feel the same strange woman in her room at night. So many strange things had happened since she arrived. 

Emma took a short break to gather her thoughts. Compose herself. Her hands felt a little clammy despite the cold down here. Emma was undoubtedly nervous about the Phantom’s reaction. The woman probably wouldn’t be overjoyed to see her again. Emma vowed to herself that tonight would be the last time. She would apologize for her childish reaction the last time. She would ask if the Phantom was hungry and offer her the piece of chocolate. And then she would leave her alone. She WOULD! She would never come back again. No matter how insanely curious she was. Emma bit her lip as she continued her unusual walk. For some reason, the idea of walking back through the passageway and never coming back didn’t seem very nice. Emma had discovered a secret down here underneath the opera, and for whatever reason, she didn’t want to let go of that secret. She told herself that it was because of what had happened to Christine, that she wanted to solve that riddle. But examining her reasons a little more thoroughly, Emma could feel how fascinated she was with the mysterious Phantom hiding underground. The mysterious Phantom in the white mask. The mask. Emma was determined not to react to it this time. Not in any way. Why had she even become so scared of it the last time? It was silly. It was just a mask, really. Emma had seen a mask before. At Halloween parties. Which was normal. Wearing a mask as an everyday accessory, which it appeared that the woman was doing, was however not normal. So why did she wear a mask? That question had been burning in Emma’s mind ever since she had gotten over her embarrassment about fainting like a dumb little school girl. Why on earth was the woman wearing a half-mask? What was... What was underneath the mask?

Emma shivered and didn’t know exactly why this time. It wasn’t because of the cold. Swallowing hard she willed herself to keep going. She was a woman on a mission. She was a silly teenage girl on an even sillier mission. She was dumb enough to ignore the Phantom’s not too subtle hint about staying away from the lair. She was about to break every goddamn rule about wandering around at the opera at night. That was what she was. It was strictly forbidden to wander around in the corridors after nine o’clock. Ruby had told her that the original curfew had been ten o’clock, but after what happened with Christine, it had been changed to one hour earlier. Emma had heard Ruby tell stories about how the entire opera had been on high alert after Christine’s death. How teachers had patrolled the corridors at night. And how the students had been terrified because they thought that there was a killer on the loose. The opera had actually been shut down while the investigation happened. Christine’s death had then been ruled as an accident. A freak accident as Ruby had sneered whilst wrinkling her nose. She didn’t believe that “sorry excuse for an explanation”, she’d said. No, she was convinced that someone had killed Christine. Either at the scene, or had dragged her down to the underground lake and left her there afterwards. But who? Who would want to kill a seventeen year old girl? Who would want to murder a soprano on her big night? 

Emma got the shivers again and had to stop for a moment. She wiped her hands on the back of her dress and took a breath. But the calming effect was entirely lost when she heard something flitter across the floor. A scream was already building in her throat, but she forced herself to shut up and listen instead. The sound retreated, and Emma took another breath. A rat. Yes. Just a rat. Well, rats wasn’t the most pleasant thing ever, but rather that than......something else. For a ridiculous moment, Emma thought of that scene from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets were the giant snake slithered around in the pipes underground. She almost laughed. Sometimes her imagination was just a little too crazy. There were no snakes down here. Big or small. A rat or two perhaps, but no snakes, that she was sure of. She continued her walk and had to crouch a little. This hallway was a bit more narrow than the other one had been. Emma wondered how the Phantom managed to get around. She had seemed tall in the brief moment Emma had seen her standing up. Did she perhaps crawl on all fours? Emma could scarcely imagine that happen. But maybe.... Maybe there were other tunnels. Yes. If there was one here and one behind the mirror in Emma’s room, why not just assume that there were other ones as well? Emma had already planned to go out and search for the remaining mirrors tomorrow when she remembered that after tonight, she wouldn’t think of the Phantom of the Opera anymore. She was just coming back to apologize. That was all. No more. That was the vow she had made to herself. And she would keep it. Even though the thought alone made her feel sad. 

The tunnel curved downwards so dramatically, Emma nearly tripped over her own feet. She couldn’t resist cursing softly under her breath as she regained her balance and then continued downwards. As irritating as these unexpected bumps and curves on the rocky road was, it was also a good indicator as to where she was. Close to her goal. Close to the lair. She walked faster and felt a thrill of excitement run through her body. Which she found to be incredibly strange because she had absolutely no reason to be excited. The most likely scenario was that the Phantom would chase her out of the lair. 

Emma continued her strange walk and was happy she had chosen her booths when she reached the water. Her little white ballerina shoes were still safe and sound by the heater upstairs. Curtsey by the Phantom. Emma found that gesture to be suspiciously kind. So very far from the brusque woman she had encountered in this lair. Curiouser and curiouser. 

The tunnel tilted again, and Emma slowed her pace some. She could hear the sound of water splashing and knew that she had to be close. 

Close to a crossroad apparently. When Emma rounded a corner, she could see that the narrow hallway had turned into three different paths. One left, one right and one straight ahead. Emma frowned. This time she couldn’t hear any piano music to guide her. She could only hear the sound of her own breath. Which path should she choose? This wasn’t just a tunnel. It was a labyrinth. A shame there wasn’t any piano music this time. How was she supposed to know which way was the right one? She strained her ears and tried to determine where the sound of water came from. It sounded like it came from the right. And if the wasn’t mistaken, the path to the left would take her back to the now blocked entrance behind the mirror in her room. Emma briefly entertained the idea of going that way and remove whatever blockage behind the mirror. But then she once again remembered the vow she’d made to herself. Apologize to the Phantom for fainting like a fool. Thanking her for carrying her back to bed. Offering her the chocolate bar as a sign of her gratitude and then disappearing. Leave the Phantom alone and never-ever come back to disturb her again. 

Emma quelled a small sigh as she chose the pathway that lead straight ahead. That was the way to the Phantom’s secret underground lair. She was sure of that. The lair she’d only set foot in once. The lair she would never set foot in again after tonight. It felt like her belly curled, and once again Emma wondered what on earth was the matter with her. Sure, she liked a good mystery novel, but normally she wasn’t this adventurous. Far from it. She much preferred to read about mysteries in books. And here she was, in the middle of her very own mystery. Not exactly what she had imagined would happen when she came to Paris. She had just come to sing, really. Not to investigate mysterious phantoms hiding in underground lairs. An inappropriate chuckle slipped past Emma’s lips. Now she could see the rounded opening for the lair itself. The very empty looking lair. The only sound was her footsteps as she walked in. Once again, she was stunned at what she was seeing. All those candles. The piano in the corner. The Phantom had been sitting by the piano the last time Emma was here, but now the chair by the piano was quite deserted. Perhaps the Phantom wasn’t here. Emma felt both relieved and disappointed. She had wanted to see the Phantom, but she was also dying to explore the lair. Just a little. Just for a moment. And if the Phantom wasn’t here, she could. She walked onto the little pathway leading up to the piano. She didn’t touch the old piano, just settled for looking around. From where she was standing, she could see a high chair in the center of the lair. Emma tiptoed over to the chair and put a hand on it. Carved of wood and stone. It had a medieval feel to it, and Emma wondered where the Phantom had acquired such a beautiful piece of art. It wasn’t as much a chair as it was a throne. Yes, a throne. Emma couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. The Phantom’s throne. 

Emma looked around in the lair again, saw how all the candles and torches flickered. She was beginning to realize that this was more than just a lair. It was a kingdom. The Phantom’s kingdom. A kingdom of music where the Phantom was the queen. Emma let out a little sigh. What a kingdom to rule. She didn’t find the lair to be particularly scary. Not with all the flickering flames and the intense smell of roses. It was only the lair’s inhabitant she was a little scared of. But where WAS the lair’s inhabitant? Emma couldn’t see the Phantom anywhere. Was it possible that she wasn’t there? But where else would she be? She couldn’t exactly roam around in the opera as she pleased. Emma looked around in the lair again. Now that she was alone, she could really get the chance to get a good look at things down here. She could see the pillows and blankets there in the corner. The Phantom’s bed. Emma felt a little twinge when thinking of her own warm and soft and comfortable bed with the fluffy pillow upstairs. A couple of thin blankets and a pillow wasn’t much of a bed. Definitely not a comfortable place to sleep. Perhaps she should have brought another blanket instead of a chocolate bar. She tilted her head when spotting a cloak lying on top of the blankets. A cloak with black feathers. So that’s where those black feather she had found in box five came from. At least that mystery was solved now. She didn’t have to wonder about that anymore.

Emma walked away from the throne and back to the piano. She had just noticed that there was something laying on a little table by the piano. Sheets of paper. Emma picked up the first one and read aloud: “Think of Me”. She tilted her head as she let her eyes roam over the nodes and lyrics. “’Think of me’,” she muttered to herself. “’Think of me fondly, when we say goodbye, remember me, every so often, promise me you’ll try'.” What was this? Emma had never come across this song before. Which she found to be kind of odd, because everything about this was very professional. The nodes, the lyrics, everything. It only took her a moment to realize that she probably never had heard of it because it hadn’t been composed by anyone “known”. The Phantom had composed it, Emma was sure of that. She... She made music. She didn’t just sing. Emma had always found the art of composing to be fascinating, and she couldn’t stop herself from peeking at the other sheets of papers. She knew she couldn’t stir them about too much, so she just settled for reading the title of the works. “Learn to Be Lonely, “All I Ask of You”. “Angel of Music”. And finally, “The Point of No Return”. That title made Emma so curious she had to know more. She carefully tugged the sheet of paper out to get a closer look at the lyrics. “’You have come here,” she read to herself. “In pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent. I have brought you, that your passions may fuse and merge. In your mind you’ve already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me.’” Emma blushed a little. Those lyrics were certainly... suggestive at best. She quickly skimmed the rest of the verses until she reached a passage that made her to a double take. “’When will the blood begin to race,’” she muttered to herself. “’The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?’”. And that wasn’t the only sentence catching her eyes. “’ In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent’”. Okay, that wasn’t just suggestive. This was a song of seduction and passion. But who was the seducer and who had been seduced? Emma could feel herself blush ridiculously as she stood there with the sheet of music in her hand. 

“I can’t for the life of me figure out if you are prone to typical overconfident teenage behavior in which you assume that you are invulnerable, or just plain stupid.” 

The voice rang out from behind a black curtain being suspended in the air between the raw stone walls, and Emma shrieked and dropped the sheets of papers. She wasn’t alone in the cave at all. The Phantom had been there the whole time. Watching her from behind the black curtain Emma hadn’t noticed until now. Oh god, why hadn’t she noticed that curtain until now? Had she really been so busy exploring and sating her curiosity? The answer to that was yes. She had been driven by her curiosity and had conveniently enough forgotten to look in the very last corner of the lair.

“Pick up those papers!” the Phantom sneered from behind the curtain. “And put them back where you found them!” 

Emma rushed as she bend down and picked up the sheets of papers. She hastily put them back on the table in a helter-skelter manner. She cringed. That did not look tidy at all. Definitely not like the neat stack of papers she had found. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“You ignorant fool!” the Phantom sneered. “You insolent girl!”

The insult stung and Emma took a moment to let it sink in. Then she took a deep breath and came forward with her errand: “I... I just wanted to say.... Thank you.”

“For what?!” the Phantom hissed, still hiding behind the curtain. 

“For catching me before I fell,” Emma whispered. “And... And carrying me back to bed. That was kind of you.”

“It wasn’t a kindness!” the Phantom snapped. “It was a necessity. What else was I supposed to do? If you woke up here, you would only keep asking stupid questions, and I’m not interested in that. I just want to be left alone!”

“But still,” Emma insisted and had no idea where the courage came from. “You didn’t have to carry me all the way back to my room. You could have left me in the tunnel.” 

The Phantom scoffed behind the curtain. “Perhaps I hoped that waking up in your bed would have made you assume that you just dreamed the events.”

“But I didn’t. It was real.”

“Unfortunately, yes. You said what you wanted to say. Now get. Out. Of. Here. You weren’t welcome the last time you came blundering in, and you certainly aren’t this time either. I thought the blocked mirror would be enough for you to figure that out. But perhaps you’d like me to spell it out for you?!”

“I found the other entrance,” Emma said lightly. Again, where on earth did this sudden courage come from?!

“Impressive. Rest assure this is the first and last time I let myself surprise by stupid girls. Now scuttle out the same way you came in!”

Emma wasn’t terribly keen on leaving, though. She tilted her head as she looked at the black curtain separating her and the Phantom. “Won’t you come out so I can see you?”

The Phantom laughed chillingly. “You want me to come out? If I remember correct, little girl, you fainted the last time you saw me.”

“I want to apologize for that,” Emma said quickly, maintaining her polite tone even though the Phantom’s use of “little girl” made her feel slightly defiant. “I didn’t... I don’t know why it happened. It wasn’t... It wasn’t because of you.”

“Yes it was,” the Phantom scoffed. “You think you’re special? Trust me, you’re not the first one to faint because you saw me, and you won’t be the last one either.”

“What does that even mean?” Emma asked. 

“It means that question time is over, little one. Now leave.”

Emma bit the inside of her cheek and as though she was driven by that ridiculous courage, she walked closer to the curtain the Phantom was hiding behind. 

“What are you doing?!” The Phantom snapped. “Get out!”

Emma ignored that. She was now so close to the curtain she was sure she could see the Phantom’s shadow behind it. “I’m really sorry for fainting like that,” she said softly. 

“Get out.”

Emma quickly deduced that she was running out of time. “Are you... Are you hungry?” she asked, still softly. She couldn’t quite figure out whether she was scared or not. The curiosity was sort of blocking everything else.

“What’s it to you?!” The Phantom hissed. She was clearly walking around behind the curtain. Frustrated. 

“I’ve...” Emma wetted her lips and tried not to feel ridiculous when continuing: “I’ve brought you something.”

Silence fell behind the curtain. Well, silence as in the Phantom not speaking. But Emma was sure she could hear her come closer to the curtain. Emma took a deep breath and waited. Slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress and grabbed the chocolate bar just to be ready. Just in case the Phantom wasn’t gonna reject her. 

“You brought me... what?” The Phantom asked hesitantly. Less aggressively.

“It’s, uhm... it’s a chocolate bar,” Emma said quickly. “I know it’s not much, but it was pretty much the only thing available, and I wanted to bring something because-“ she stopped talking when realizing that she was rambling. Shut up, Emma, just shup already!

“You brought me chocolate?” the woman behind the curtain asked. She didn’t sound angry or bored anymore. More like intrigued. 

“Yeah,” Emma said, eagerly grabbing what felt like an olive branch. “It’s pretty small, but it’s pretty good and I figured-“ what stopped her rambling this time was long and slightly tanned fingers appearing behind the curtain. 

Emma could take a hint and carefully extended the chocolate bar out. The long fingers gripped the chocolate bar and almost yanked it out of Emma’s grasp. The hand disappeared behind the curtain again and Emma could hear how the woman eagerly ripped the wrapping off the chocolate bar. Emma lingered and listened as the Phantom ate the chocolate bar and Emma congratulated herself with making the right choice. The chocolate bar had been a good idea. A very good idea. But now what? Should she wait or should she just go? Maybe that would be better. Technically she had done what she meant to do, so maybe it would be better if she just-

“Thank you.”

Emma stiffened a bit in surprise but then immediately grasped what she considered to be a second olive branch. “You’re welcome. Is it... Has it been a long time since you last had chocolate?”

“Three years.”

“Three YEARS?” Emma spluttered. She couldn’t imagine going three years without her next chocolate fix. But then again, she didn’t live a secret life in an underground lair. It made perfect sense that the Phantom hadn’t had chocolate for a long time. Emma saw an opportunity. “If you want...” she said slowly and hoped that she wouldn’t screw this up spectacularly. “I could bring you some more chocolate?”

“You think I’m interested in seeing my teeth decaying?” the Phantom asked. But she didn’t sound particularly cruel. 

And Emma didn’t give up. “Some proper food then?”

There was silence behind the curtain for a moment. Then: “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But aren’t you hungry?” Emma pushed.

More silence behind the curtain. 

“If you removed the barrier behind the mirror in my room, it would be so much easier for me to bring you food,” Emma said boldly. She had suddenly become the world’s finest actress. The goosebumps on her arms told the tale of how nervous she truly was. 

“Don’t push it, little girl,” the Phantom half-sneered behind the black curtain. “Who says I want you to come back?”

“You didn’t,” Emma agreed. “But aren’t you hungry?”

Silence again. Emma took the silence as a yes. “I want to make up for how I acted the last time,” she said, and her voice threatened to break. “The fainting and all. And I figured that maybe I could make up for it by bringing you some food. I wanna apologize properly.”

“You are just some curious little girl who has heard the story about the Phantom of the Opera and want to see her up close and personal,” the woman behind the curtain drawled. 

“You’re right,” Emma said, figuring that agreeing with the woman was her best bet right now. “I am curious. But I also do wanna apologize. And I want to do that by doing something nice for you.”

“And what makes you think that I want anything from you?” 

“It’s easy for me to get food,” Emma said simply. “And I have a pretty big backpack too. I could fit a lot of food in it.”

More silence behind the curtain. Emma chose to believe that the Phantom was considering it. She could hear the other woman walk back and forward and she wondered what kind of room was behind the curtain. Another bedroom, perhaps? Emma hoped so. Those thin blankets and flat pillow did not look very comfortable to sleep on. Not comfortable at all. Emma naively hoped that there was a proper mattress behind that curtain. 

“Tomorrow night,” The Phantom said finally. “You’ll come through the mirror in the crypt. If you get lost on the way, it’s not my problem.”

“Of course not,” Emma said and tried not to pout. “But what about the mirror in my room-“

“That will remain blocked,” The Phantom brusquely interrupted. “I’m not interested in having you stumbling in here at all times during the day.” 

Emma was just about to say something to that when something in the Phantom’s previous words made her pause. “You... You said tomorrow night?”

“Yes.”

“But-“ Emma shook her head. “You only eat one time during the day?”

“Tomorrow night,” The Phantom repeated without answering Emma’s question. “That’s how it’s gonna be. It’s that or nothing. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay,” Emma said quickly. “Okay, tomorrow night. Yeah.”

“We have an agreement then. Now get out.” 

But still, Emma lingered. “Aren’t you gonna come out so I can see you?”

“The last time you asked me to do that, you fainted on the spot,” the Phantom said mockingly. “The sight of me frightened your poor little self so....” 

Emma cringed. “I am really sorry about-“

“Yes, yes, you’ve already said that. I’ve never cared much for words. The only type of apology I’m interested in, is the one you’ll supposedly bring me tomorrow night. Now leave.”

Emma’s bottom lip jutted out. The Phantom was evidently not gonna come out from behind the curtain. Not tonight at least. She should just leave and be satisfied with the odd agreement. But then another question popped out of her before she could stop it: “What’s your name?”

“I don’t have a name.”

“My name is Em-“

“I don’t care.”

“Swan,” Emma half-heartedly finished the sentence. 

“’Swan’?” the Phantom repeated. “Interesting.”

“That’s not my first name!” Emma protested. “My first name is-“

“I don’t care. Swan suits you just fine. Now get out of here, little Swan, before I decide to show my scary, scary face...” 

Emma saw those long fingers creep out from behind the curtain again, but this time the long fingers curled tightly around the curtain, and Emma was no way in doubt that it was time to leave now. “Okay,” she said quietly and a tad hoarsely. “Okay, I’ll leave. But I’ll be back tomorrow night with food.”

“We’ll see about that, little Swan. We shall see.” 

“I will!” Emma said firmly. She had made a promise and she wasn’t planning on breaking it. She turned her back on the curtain and went back towards the tunnel that would take her back to the mirror in the crypt. But halfway there a twinge doubt suddenly crept up her spine, and she stopped and went: “uhmm...”

“Yes?” The Phantom asked and sounded like she was bored again. 

“I was just wondering,” Emma said sheepishly. “To get back to the mirror in the crypt. Do I.... Do I go left or right? I can’t remember, and I don’t... I don’t wanna get lost on the way.”

She had expected The Phantom to taunt and tease, but to her utmost surprise, the other woman answered immediately: “right.”

“Okay,” Emma said. “Thank you.”

She didn’t react to that in any way. “Go away, little Swan. Go away and leave me alone.”

And so Emma finally went. Left the underground lair. Left the Phantom of the Opera alone. But only until tomorrow night.......

To Be Continued.........


	14. That Shape In The Shadows

To say that Emma was giddy when she returned to her room that night was definitely an understatement. She had never been drunk before, but she imagined that it would feel a bit like this. She felt all fluttery. Lightheaded, almost. Bubbling with excitement. She had met the Phantom. Again. And she was going to tomorrow night again. She was going to bring the mysterious Phantom of the Opera food. 

It was safe to say that Emma had never done something similar in her life. An unusual task indeed. 

She flopped down on her bed. She knew that she should get changed for bed, but she was too excited to think about anything else right now. She struggled to wrap her head around what had just occurred. She had talked to the Phantom. Like actually talked to her. That was crazy. She was a bit bummed over not having seen the Phantom, but talking to her was better than nothing, right? And tomorrow night she would talk to her again. And hopefully see her as well. Yes. Emma so hoped that the mysterious Phantom would emerge from behind the black curtain. Emma wanted to prove to her that she wasn’t gonna faint just because of the white mask. Why WAS the Phantom wearing a mask? Thinking about it, it hadn’t looked like one of those silly party masks that always were too big. The white half-mask had looked like it had been made for the Phantom’s face. But why? Why was she wearing a mask? Emma had wanted to ask her that. She still did. But she hadn’t had the guts to do it tonight. Nor had she could pluck up the courage to ask about the sheets of music she had found. She didn’t doubt that the Phantom had written the music. Emma especially remembered the song called “Point of No Return”. The lyrics had been quite... seductive. And it had clearly been a duet. Who had the Phantom being duetting with? Or perhaps the Phantom hadn’t written it for herself. And what WAS the Phantom’s real name? That was another of the questions Emma hadn’t had the guts to ask tonight. Oh well. At least she had told the Phantom her own name. Or some of it. Little Swan. That was what the Phantom had called her. Little Swan. Clearly meant to be mocking, but for some reason, Emma couldn’t quite find the proper indignance over being called that. How odd.   
It felt like her brain was sizzling. She couldn’t stop thinking about tonight, and she couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow night either. Tomorrow night where she would bring the Phantom food. And chocolate. Emma definitely wanted to bring the other woman another chocolate bar. She had clearly liked that. And it had been three years since she last had chocolate. Three years. Emma couldn’t imagine the torture. But what else did the Phantom like? Emma mentally slapped herself for not having asked about it when she had the chance. Suppose she brought the Phantom food she didn’t like? Would that be enough reason for the Phantom to chase her out of the lair and block the other secret entrance as well? Emma didn’t want that. She definitely didn’t. She didn’t want to let go of this impossible secret just yet. She wanted... Well, she wanted to get to know the Phantom of the Opera. 

Emma giggled a little to herself. The thought alone was ridiculous, right? She was probably doing all the wrong things here. If a normal person discovered a secret underground lair and a woman hiding in it, the person would surely alert someone. But not Emma. She remembered the promise she had made to the Phantom on the night she was in her room. She had promised not to tell anyone. And she was going to keep that promise. 

She took a deep breath. Suddenly it felt like she had been holding her breath the entire time she had been in the lair. Maybe she had. And maybe with good reason too. After all, there had been no way to   
foresee the Phantom’s reaction to her reappearance. Emma couldn’t possibly have known whether she would have ended up running for her life all the way back to the entrance behind the mirror. But she hadn’t. And she was so relieved about it. Relieved and just a tad... disappointed. She had hoped that the Phantom would take away whatever it was that was barricading the entrance behind the mirror in her room, but she had rejected that and asked Emma to use the entrance behind the mirror in the crypt instead. Exactly how she was supposed to slip through the mirror with the food without anyone noticing, Emma wasn’t completely sure of, and she realized that the Phantom had given her a challenge. A test. 

“I can do it!” she said to no one in particular. “I’ll show you!” oh yes, she would come back through the mirror with food. Maybe she would even surprise the Phantom who wasn’t expecting to see her again. Emma was gonna show her differently. She chuckled to herself again. She felt very tired and upbeat at the same time. It was an odd combination, really. It was like she wanted to rest, but couldn’t. 

Emma sat up in bed. This was dumb. She had to get ready for bed. She was supposed to be up early tomorrow. She had important rehearsals. My god, she hadn’t even thought about that ever since stepping into the lair for the second time. Everything had just sort of been pushed back in favor of the mysterious, alluring lair and the equally mysterious Phantom hiding behind the black curtain. Emma shook her head. She felt lightheaded. And when she stood from the bed, she noted that her knees were buckling slightly as well. She was overtired. But at least she hadn’t fainted this time around. And she wouldn’t tomorrow night either when the Phantom hopefully emerged from behind that curtain. Emma so wanted to get a second look at her. She had barely seen her the first time, really. She had been a little too busy fainting. Emma scrunched up her nose in embarrassment over herself. That was the first and last time she had fainted in that lair. Never again. 

Finally, Emma got out of her own head and got off the bed. Slowly, she opened the dresser and found her nightgown. She still felt somewhat in a daze as she walked to the bathroom, though. Lightheaded. So distracted it took her a moment to realize that she was on the verge of brushing her teeth with her deodorant instead of her toothbrush. Eww. That was disgusting. She really had to pull herself together. To really make herself snap out of it, Emma switched on the tap and splashed some cold water onto her cheeks. It helped a little. But not enough to fully ban the Phantom of the opera from her mind. Emma sighed as she stripped out of her grey dress and slipped on the nightgown. She brushed her hair and tied it back in a loose braid. Then she went back to bed. Sighed once more as she sat down on the edge and slipped off her glasses. She put them aside on the bedside table and rubbed the brink of her nose. It felt like the glasses had nipped into her skin. Maybe it was time to get them adjusted or something. 

She switched off the little nightlight and crawled back to bed. Pulled up the covers all the way to her chin. Lay with her eyes wide open in the darkness. She definitely couldn’t sleep. Her mind was racing. Full of questions. How on earth was she supposed to sneak food into the crypt tomorrow night without being seen by anyone? What if someone DID see her? What was she supposed to say? That she wanted to eat in the crypt while lighting a candle for her grandmother? Emma snorted. No, that was ridiculous. Completely stupid. No one would believe her. If someone caught her sneaking down to the crypt with the food, it would be the end of her brief interaction with the Phantom. And she would fail the test the Phantom had given her. But suppose she DID manage to sneak back to the lair with the food? What would happen then? Maybe the Phantom would get angry that she had passed the test. Or surprised. Or- Emma felt like a fool for hoping- maybe even happy. Here in the darkness where no one could see her, she was allowed to hope that the Phantom would be happy, right? If Emma made it tomorrow night, she would have saved the other woman the trouble of skulking around to find food and thereby risking to be seen by someone. Emma rolled onto her side, so she was facing away from the door. She was supposed to sleep, but she couldn’t. She was still thinking about the Phantom. What was she doing right now? Had she emerged from behind the black curtain? Had she gone to sleep on that poor excuse for a bed in the corner? Or was she playing the piano and singing to herself like the first time Emma had sat foot in the lair? The memories of the song was a bit muddled now, but Emma was sure it had been something about loneliness. But why was the Phantom so lonely? Emma scoffed quietly. Well, that was easily answered. The Phantom was lonely because she lived in an underground lair, completely shielded away from anyone. But WHY was she living in an underground lair? Where had she come from in the first place? Where did the Phantom of the Opera....begin? And what had brought her to the lair? Emma’s brain went into haywire. People who isolated themselves at remote locations like the Phantom did, were often running from something. Or someone. Hiding. But why was the Phantom hiding? Who was she hiding from? Maybe she had seen something bad and was hiding because of it. Or maybe she had done something bad and was hiding not to be caught by whoever it was chasing her. Two good possibilities. Emma didn’t know which one of them was the right one, but she was sure that something must have happened. Something must have caused the Phantom of the Opera to become.... The Phantom of the Opera. But why? And why chose this place for hiding of all the places in the world? The world was big, very big. Bigger than Emma would ever be able to comprehend. There had to be a million places one could get lost in. Big cities where you could blend in and disappear. Little villages where people kept to themselves. Wild forests where you could build a cabin or something like that.

With so many options available, of all the places in all the world, why chose a lair underneath a Parisian opera? There had to be a reason behind that. The Phantom couldn’t have chosen this place at random. There had to be a reason behind it.

It was a windy night in Paris, and the old window in Emma’s room rattled slightly. The sound startled Emma a little. She had been so wrapped up in her own head. She took a breath to calm herself. It sort of sounded like the wind was coming from everywhere in her room. Even from behind the mirror. For a moment, Emma imagined that the Phantom woman was standing behind the mirror and watching her. Then she scoffed. And why would she do that? Well... Why had she watched Emma to begin with? She had undoubtedly been standing behind the mirror that night when Emma sang to herself. And she had done the same on the night where Emma had been in the crypt. Standing behind the mirror. Had her intention been to scare, or had she simply been curious? Emma reminded herself to ask the Phantom that when she saw her tomorrow night. God, it felt so strange to think. That she would actually be seeing this mysterious ghost of a woman tomorrow night. Or would she? For a moment, Emma imagined returning to the lair and finding it completely empty. No candles, no blankets, no Phantom. She wondered what her reaction would be if that happened. Even thinking about it now made her feel oddly disappointed, and Emma didn’t quite understand why. She didn’t even know the Phantom. And she had other friends. Good friends. Friends that were a bit more... normal. Friends who didn’t live in underground lairs and wore masks. Why was it so important to her to become friends with the Phantom of the Opera? 

Christine Daaé, of course. That was the reason. Emma had to solve the mysterious death of the young soprano whose ghost seemed to haunt every inch of the opera. The Phantom had to be the key to solving this mystery, and if Emma could win her trust... Well, then maybe she could find the answer. She could bring closure to Ruby and Mal and everyone else who had been affected by Christine Daaé’s death. 

Another slight rattling made Emma sit up in bed and stare into the darkness. Just the wind again and nothing else. She had to stop imagining that it came from behind the mirror when it didn’t. She was just making up stuff now. It was only the wind and someone walking down the corridor outside her room. Undoubtedly a teacher. Sometimes they patrolled the corridors at night. To catch students out of bed. Emma chuckled quietly to herself. Sometimes she was sure that that rule had been made because of Ruby. She had often made Emma laugh when telling her about the times she had snuck out of bed. Sometimes with Belle, and sometimes alone. It was very entertaining stories. Emma took another breath and lied back down on the bed. She had to stop being scared about everything. It was just the wind. Nothing more. She pulled the covers back up to her chin and closed her eyes. No more thinking about anything. She had to go sleep. She had to be well rested for tomorrow’s rehearsal. She did a little wiggle and tried to make herself comfortable in the bed. The mattress was so soft, almost following her body’s shape. The pillow underneath her head was nice and fluffy. The covers were thick. Emma felt grateful for her soft bed. And she couldn’t help but think about the Phantom’s poor excuse for a bed. No mattress. Did she sleep on the floor? That couldn’t be very comfortable. And no proper pillow either. Emma sort of felt sorry for the Phantom now. No mattress, no pillow. How did she even manage to get any sleep? 

Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was a vampire. Emma snorted loudly. Okay, she was definitely getting tired. A vampire, really? That was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous. It was downright stupid. The Phantom was a person. An actual person. Not some strange, mythical being. But a real, living, breathing human being. Period. Emma rolled onto her belly and mashed her face into the pillow. Her imagination was definitely running away with her. What time was it even? Twelve? One? Emma wasn’t sure, but she knew that she definitely shouldn’t be awake right now. She would feel like a complete mess tomorrow morning. And her voice would suffer under because of her late night as well. It would either be all rough and raspy, or completely squeaky and high pitched. Emma reckoned that she would have not one but two cups of ginger tea tomorrow morning. That was the only way to ensure that her voice would function. She didn’t want to sound pitchy or raspy and thereby draw attention to herself. Now more than ever, it was essential for her to blend in. Emma’s body gradually started to feel heavier and heavier, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. Perhaps she was finally falling asleep. She wasn’t sure of whether she was awake or had fallen asleep when a black curtain with a hand emerging from behind it flittered through her mind....

Emma was indeed groggy when her alarm blared the following morning. She deeply regretted her late night, but as opposed to the last time, the memories of her encounter with the Phantom of the Opera was quite fresh in her mind. And the knowledge that she would see her again tonight made her feel a little less groggy as she jumped out of bed and into the bathroom. She took a quick shower and changed into her white chorus dress. Her hair got a quick brushing and was tied back in a ponytail. She applied just a little bit of makeup, wiped her glasses and then examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked decent. A bit tired, but that was to be expected. She smiled encouragingly to herself and then left her room to get some breakfast.

Downstairs in the canteen, it didn’t take long before Emma crossed paths with Lily. After the usual morning greeting, the two of them quickly agreed to sit together while eating breakfast. Emma grabbed a tray, loaded food onto her plate and then moved along to get her morning tea. Her mind wasn’t in it, really. She was more focused on the food she was gonna steal tonight. How on earth was she gonna pull that off without anyone seeing it? That was a tough nut to crack. 

They found an empty table and sat down. Lily chitchatted about the upcoming rehearsal, and Emma’s job was to mostly just smile and say yes or no. At least until Lily said: “You feeling any better today? You stayed in the crypt for a while, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Emma confirmed and did her best to smile. “Sometimes I just can’t stop thinking about grandma.”

“I get it,” Lily said softly and reached out to pat her hand lightly. “I have those days too. Where I just can’t stop thinking about my dad.”

Emma flashed her a smile but silently considered how in the world she should slip unseen into the crypt tonight. She had a feeling that Lily would be keeping an eye on her. Which was very sweet and considerate, but also a bit of an obstacles. Emma would just have to hope that she somehow could manage to slip away unseen. It had to be possible for her to disappear in the crowd, right? She flashed Lily another smile. She felt guilty for lying to her friend, but there was no way she could tell Lily about the Phantom of the opera. She had made a promise to the Phantom about not to tell anyone. Not even her good friend. Lily was Mal’s daughter, and there was no way of guaranteeing that she wouldn’t be passing on the information to her mother, and then what would happen? The underground tunnels would probably be searched, the Phantom would be found and.... get arrested for trespassing? Face charges for the murder of Christine Daaé? No. Emma couldn’t let that happen. She had to keep this secret to herself. And feel guilty for lying. 

“You alright, Em?”

“Yes!” Emma said quickly and a bit too brightly. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Lily smiled. “Are you ready to sing your heart out in a moment?”

Emma chuckled. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I’m glad I get to stand next to you during rehearsal,” Lily continued, still smiling. “Your voice is so pretty.”

“So is yours.”

“Thanks. Do you realize that the concert is only four months away now?”

“Don’t remind me,” Emma said and grimaced. “Time is going too fast!”

“You nervous?” Lily asked sympathetically. 

“I am,” Emma admitted. “But I’m also relieved that I’m not the one to sing solo. I would never be able to do that.”

“Your voice is good enough, though.”

“My psyche isn’t,” Emma tried to joke. But Lily looked a bit concerned, so Emma quickly changed the subject: “do you think Ruby is nervous about singing solo?”

“Ruby? Nah, she’s a pro,” Lily chuckled. “She never gets nervous about singing in front of a crowd. I’m not sure how she does it.”

“No, me neither,” Emma said. She wasn’t the least bit jealous, though. Excited and happy for Ruby who had been chosen to sing at the big concert for all the parents and teachers, but not jealous at all.   
Emma was more than happy with standing in the back as a chorus-singer. She was just happy to be a part of it, really. That was enough for her. More than enough.

“You ready for ‘O Mio Babbino Caro’?” Lily asked with a chuckle. “It’s been stuck in my head for ages now!”

Emma grinned slightly. She could understand that. ‘O Mio Babbino Caro’ was one of the songs they had been rehearsing the most. They still had some problems with it, and that was the reason why they had been rehearsing it so much. The lyrics had been stuck in Emma’s mind too. Well, at least before she had the second encounter with the Phantom. 

“I swear, I dreamed about singing it last night!” Lily continued with a huff and shook her head slightly. “And then my mom popped up in the dream and told me that I wasn’t doing it the right way. Sometimes my dreams are a little too realistic.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Emma grinned. Her dreams had been pretty realistic too lately. 

Emma and Lily continued their breakfast and chitchatted. Emma really did her utmost to stay present in the conversation and not think about anything else. But her mind kept wandering. Her thoughts   
kept circulating back to a secret lair hidden under the opera. And its equally mysterious inhabitant. Emma desperately hoped that she would be fortunate enough to get a glimpse of the Phantom tonight.   
That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? The Phantom couldn’t stay hidden behind that curtain forever.

Concentrating on singing was a hardship that day. Emma’s mouth took over the singing while her mind wandered as it pleased. It was sheer dumb luck that Mme. Carlotta didn’t notice how distracted she was. Emma was grateful she knew “O Mio Babbino Caro” like the back of her hand. Otherwise it would have been very hard to keep up. Ruby was the one doing all the hard work while the chorus simply did what they were supposed to do. Work as a sort of backdrop for her voice. Ruby truly had a beautiful voice. Rich and full of vibrato. Mme. Carlotta sometimes scolded her for using too much vibrato, but Ruby rarely did as she was told. She kept using the vibrato, and Emma had to admit that the sometimes wild untamedness sounded good. 

“Encore une fois s'il te plait!” Mme. Carlotta said strictly once they had finished singing. “Soon you will be singing to an audience, and it has to be exactly right! Breathe,” she demonstrated the breathing technique they always used, and everyone in the choir breathed with her. Emma did too, but as she breathed in and out, she looked around at the large room they were standing in. Looked at all the velvet chairs. It was hard to imagine that every last chair would be filled by parents and other concert-goers in only four months. Emma felt a tingle of excitement and anxiety travel down her spine. Singing for an audience was gonna be a very special experience, and Emma hoped that everything would go well. The concert would be the first time she would be singing for such a big crowd. But she could do it. From her safe position in the back, she could do anything. 

Once the breathing exercises were done, they started singing again. Ruby’s voice filled the big room and soon the rest of the choir joined in. Emma too. Once again, her mouth took over the singing while her mind wandered. And her eyes. It didn’t take long before Emma found herself staring at box five where she had found those feathers. Now she knew that the feathers came from that cloak she had seen yesterday. But that wasn’t what she was focusing on. It was box five. Was there any chance that the Phantom was hiding behind the chairs while listening as they rehearsed. Emma almost shook her head a little. And why would be the Phantom do that? Hiding in plain sight behind a couple of chairs would be an unnecessary risk to take. Emma doubted that the Phantom was here right now. But to her own surprise, she wished that she had been. Emma wanted her to be here and listen while they sang. While SHE sang. Now why was that? Emma couldn’t quite figure that out either. When it came to the Phantom of the Opera, Emma definitely had more questions than answers. She bowed her head and looked down at the sheets of paper with the lyrics in her hand. Tried not to think about the sheets of papers she had found in the Phantom’s lair last night. She wanted to know more about that music too. There were many things she wanted to know. She wasn’t quite sure how to focus on asking one question at the time tonight. And she definitely wasn’t sure that the Phantom would even be answering any of them...

It became lunchtime, and instead of doing much eating, Emma was much busier glancing around at the other people in the canteen. How much distance was there between the tables? Where was the nearest door? Was it possible for her to hide her backpack underneath the table? She deduced that there actually was a reasonable distance between the tables. There was a so-called emergency door right next to the table in the far end of the canteen. Emma wasn’t completely sure where that door lead to, but it was worth a shot, right? She would just have to trust that she could find her way around this place. And she could indeed fit her backpack underneath the table. That was good. Bringing her backpack with her to dinner wouldn’t be the most unusual thing in the world. There were many students who tended to do their homework while eating dinner. If she was subtle about it, she could definitely sneak food into the backpack. It wouldn’t be too difficult. She would just have to be a little discreet about it. Emma’s palms went a little damp as she sat there, pretending to eat her lunch but actually plotting out the events for tonight. Once again, she felt like she was a part of a movie or a novel. She was Stevie Bell and Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot at the same time. She was Sherlock Holmes and Phryne Fisher. She was Veronica Mars and Alex Cross. And she could do this. Of course she could. Emma took a sip of her water as to reassure herself. The most important thing now was to act natural and not draw attention to herself for the next hours. If she played her cards right, no one would notice a thing. She took a bite of her sandwich, chewed and swallowed. Did the Phantom like sandwiches, she wondered. Everyone liked the combination of ham and cheese, right? What should Emma bring the Phantom for dinner? Besides the chocolate bar, Emma didn’t really know. But she hoped that whatever she chose would be good enough. She wanted to make the Phantom happy. In Emma’s mind, the other woman was starving in her lair. Only one meal a day. How was that even possible? Emma couldn’t imagine only eating once a day. That had to be terrible. It didn’t take long before Emma was wishing that she could do more than this. Bring the Phantom more meals. 

She shook her head. What was she even thinking about? This was just a one time occurrence, right? That’s what the Phantom had said. That Emma could apologize by bringing her a meal. A meal. Singular. Meaning that she hadn’t planned that it should happen again. But what if Emma’s plan about nicking food went exceptionally well? If she could do it once, she could do it again, right? It wasn’t like she was doing something dangerous. Not really. Taking food and saving it for later wasn’t a crime as such. At least not when people assumed that it was just for herself. And if Emma played her cards right, no one would ever be any the wiser. 

“Hey.”

Emma looked up. “Hi, Ruby,” she greeted and smiled. 

“Good rehearsal,” Ruby praised and returned the smile. “Despite Mme. Carlotta’s crabby mood.”

Emma chuckled. “You did really well.” 

“Thanks, Em. So did you. I heard you.”

Emma flushed a little. “You did?” she hadn’t been singing that loud, but of course Ruby had heard her. Of course everyone in the chorus had heard her. Emma quickly reminded herself that other people hearing her sing wasn’t a bad thing. It was a good thing. A very, very good thing. That was what she was here for. 

“Of course I did,” Ruby smiled. “Your voice is one of the clearest in the chorus.”

Emma cursed herself for blushing harder. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, do you wanna take the rest of that sandwich with you up to my room?” Ruby asked. “Belle and I are gonna study together, and I was wondering if you’d like to study with us? I promise there won’t be any alcohol this time.”

Emma chuckled at the joke. “I’d like that. Thank you.” 

“Anytime, Em,” Ruby said. “You can always come and hang out whenever you want. Door’s always open.”

“Thank you,” Emma repeated and smiled at the older girl. That was awfully nice of Ruby. Emma suspected that she sometimes was a little worried about her because Emma was the newest member of the   
choir and all that. And Emma also suspected that Ruby’s concern sprung from the fact that Emma lived in Christine’s old room. 

“Come on,” Ruby said briskly and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. 

Emma quickly leapt from her chair, and with the rest of the sandwich in hand, she followed Ruby back to her room where Belle was already waiting. She greeted Emma with a smile and asked if she was ready to study together. Emma replied that she was. She was eager to think of something else besides her nerve wracking plans for tonight. But it didn’t take long before she ended up looking at the framed picture standing on Ruby’s bedside table. The picture was of Ruby and Christine arm in arm and grinning broadly at the camera. Both of them looked ridiculously happy, Christine even in particular. Her blue eyes were sparkling, and her blonde hair seem to catch the sunlight. She was pretty. One had to be blind not to spot that, and Emma definitely wasn’t blind. Christine Daaé had been beautiful. Was that what had cost her her life? Or had it been about something completely else? 

Ruby followed Emma’s gaze and flashed her a sad little smile, and Emma quickly turned her attention back to her homework. She wasn’t here to think about Christine. Or look at pictures of her. That would definitely draw attention to her, and that was something Emma wanted to avoid at any cost. Today blending in was essential...

That evening, Emma put her plan in motion. She brought her backpack with her to the canteen and partially stuffed it away underneath the table. By some mere miracle, Lily wasn’t present at dinner. She had to help her mom with something, and afterwards the two of them would be having dinner together. Emma silently thanked her lucky stars for that fortunate coincidence.   
She had been smart. She had brought her book with her. No one ever disturbed someone who was reading, right? 

She had also managed to sit at the table right by the emergency door. She sat tight and pretended to read, but really, she was keeping a sharp eye on everyone in the canteen. All the other students and teachers were busy eating and chitchatting. As expected, most of the students were doing their homework while eating. Some of them was wearing headphones, and a few of them were reading like Emma. Dinnertime sort of worked as a free-period were everyone kicked back and relaxed. Did their own thing and didn’t pay as much attention to the others. This was perfect. Tonight’s menu was lasagna. That was not as perfect because Emma could hardly stuff that into her backpack. But there were also bread rolls. And apples. Nice, red apples that looked positively mouthwatering. Emma had taken two instead of one. She discreetly slipped one of the apples into her backpack without anyone noticing it. The bread rolls were perfect too. Instead of taking two, Emma had taken four. Two for her, and two for the Phantom. Chocolate bars were available as well. There was always chocolate bars for dinner as a little extra treat. The students at the Opera Garnier worked hard, and the chocolate bars always available was somewhat of a “demand”. The teachers always made a point of assuring that the students’ blood sugar was well taken care of. But only one chocolate bar per student. That was the policy. And tonight Emma had broken that policy. By taking two chocolate bars instead of one. Her heart had been throbbing painfully in her chest while doing so, and she had been deadly afraid that someone had seen and would bust her for it. But no one had, and now the two chocolate bars had been safely stored away in her backpack. She hadn’t even taken one for herself. She wanted the Phantom to have them instead. She had seemed pleased about the chocolate, and Emma really wanted to please her again. Why? Who knows. At this point, Emma had pretty much stopped questioning her own motives. That would probably only give her a headache. 

Emma wiped her lips with a napkin. She had finished her first portion of lasagna and was now looking at the second portion standing in front of her. That portion wasn’t for her. That was for the Phantom. But Emma was nervous. Stealing the food without anyone noticing was one thing. Slipping through the emergency door right under the teachers’ noses was something else. Emma was deadly afraid of being caught red handed. If that happened, everything would be ruined. 

Emma looked around in the crowded cafeteria. She was done eating. It was time to act. Her fellow choir members and the older students were chitchatting. The teachers were talking to each other. No one seemed to notice the girl with the book at the oddly placed table. If she wanted to disappear, she had to do it now. Before she accidentally made eye contact with anyone. 

Emma quietly stood from the chair and slipped the book back into her backpack. Slipped her arms through the backpack’s shoulder straps. She snatched the little fork and slipped it into her pocket. Then she took the plate of lasagna. Looked around one more time. No one was looking her away. Not even Ruby. Emma slowly backed away from the table. She was afraid that if she turned around, someone would tap her on the shoulder and ask where she was going with the lasagna, and honestly, it would be pretty hard to explain. She took another step backwards. No one was looking at her. Emma got bolder and took several steps backwards. Still no one showed her the littlest bit of interest. Now she could feel the door against her back. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and jiggled the doorknob with one hand. Unlocked. Thank god. That had been another of Emma’s fears. That the door would be locked. Finding out that it wasn’t was another thing she thanked her lucky stars for. 

Resisting to look back and jinx herself, Emma went through the door as quietly, quickly and discreetly as she could. Closing the door with one hand was a bit tricky, but she managed, and once that was done, she remained standing there for a moment just to listen if anyone was coming towards the door. Anyone who potentially could have seen her “disappear”. She heard nothing. No one. Emma resisted to giggle in relief. She had actually done it. The worst part was over. She turned around and tried to get familiar with her surroundings. She wasn’t completely sure where she was, but she could see some stairs. Stairs were good. Downwards was where she was going. The further the better, Emma figured. The underground lair was buried pretty deep. With the backpack safely on her shoulders and balancing the plate of lasagna in one hand, Emma went down the stairs. She hoped that this somehow would take her where she needed to go. The Phantom’s lair. Emma naively pictured the Phantom waiting for her. But she probably wasn’t. Right? No. Why would she? The Phantom had essentially seemed bored and uninterested when Emma talked to her last night. Like she couldn’t be bothered. At least she had seemed that way until Emma gave her the chocolate. Then it had seemed that a small part of the Phantom’s façade had briefly melted away. Maybe the two chocolate bars could melt a little more of that façade. Emma was certainly hoping so. She had so many questions. But she couldn’t ask her questions to a woman who appeared so uninterested. 

“Oops,” Emma mumbled when she nearly tripped. Maybe she should concentrate on walking instead of overthinking everything. 

By some ridiculous, sheer-dumb-luck miracle, the staircase Emma had taken actually brought her down to the crypt and the mirror. Well, she had taken the wrong way one time and that had delayed her some, but now she was here, and she felt giddy like never before as she carefully held onto the plate of lasagna with both hands while pushing against the mirror with her shoulder. The old mirror creaked stubbornly. Emma was even more stubborn and after a two minute long struggle, the mirror creakingly slid aside and revealed the hole behind it. 

“Ha,” Emma said triumphantly to herself. She just couldn’t help it. She had actually done it. Now for the third time in her life, she walked through the mirror. The plate of lasagna wobbled dangerously in her hands as she pushed the mirror back where it belonged. She almost spilled a little, but she couldn’t risk someone coming in here and spotting the hole behind the mirror. With that taken care of, she turned back around and eyed the dark passageway lying ahead of her. “Ready or not, here I come,” she muttered a bit childishly. What would the Phantom think when she showed up with food? Maybe she would actually be a bit surprised. Emma kind of hoped so. She wanted to surprise the Phantom. She wanted to prove to her that she wasn’t just some dumb little kid who made promises on a whim. She had said that she would come back with food, and that was exactly what she was doing right now. 

Once again, Emma began her mysterious wander through the dark passageway. As she walked, she imagined that she could hear the faint sound of a piano. But that was probably just her imagination. She was still too far away from the Phantom’s lair to be able to hear anything. To make up for the silence, Emma quietly hummed to herself. Nella Fantasia was the choice of tonight. Anything but O Mio Babbino Caro. Emma couldn’t possibly have handled singing that one more time. She chuckled to herself. Good thing they were rehearsing something else tomorrow. 

“Brr,” she muttered to herself. Once again, she was only wearing her thin chorus-dress. She should have thought of bringing a cardigan, but she had been too stressed out to think about anything but getting the food. 

“Why live down here in this cold?” Emma quietly wondered. “How does she stay warm?” did the Phantom walk around in blankets all day long? Emma sort of had a hard time imagining that. She was probably just used to the cold. At least she would be if she had lived in the lair for a while. But had she? That was the question. She had at least lived there three years ago when Christine had found her. But before that? Was it possible that the Phantom had been there before? The mystery seemed to deepen with each step Emma took, and she was desperate to have just one of her questions answered tonight. She feared that she would go mad otherwise. It wasn’t healthy to keep wondering like this. Emma shivered a little again. If only she had brought that cardigan. 

One very cold walk later, a shivering and slightly wet-shoed Emma Swan found herself standing in the opening to the Phantom’s lair. She had made it! Actually made it! Now she felt lightheaded again. Giddy with success. She had successfully made it to the lair without spilling as much as a drop of the lasagna. She was allowed to be proud of that. 

She walked into the lair. Closed her eyes and breathed in the scent for a moment. Looked at all the candles. As chilly as this place was, it was breathtaking. Emma had to admit that. But where was the Phantom? The lair looked a bit... empty. Emma felt a twinge of disappointment as she scanned the lair. There was the feather cloak, still lying draped across the chair. There was the sheets of papers Emma so desperately wanted to take another look at. But no Phantom to be seen anywhere. Surely, she hadn’t left, had she? No. where would she go? She had to be here somewhere. 

“Hello?” Emma called into the lair. “I’ve....I’ve brought food?” 

She waited. Listened. To the silence. Felt another twinge of disappointment. The lair was far too quiet. Maybe the Phantom really wasn’t here. Maybe she was perfectly capable of getting her own food and had just been teasing Emma for some reason. Emma bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t feel like going back through the passageway so soon.

“Well, well. Look who it is. The little blonde miss Swan.”

Emma let out a little squeak and nearly dropped the plate of lasagna as her head whipped up. 

“Be careful, little Swan,” the Phantom scolded from somewhere. “I’m not interested in eating my dinner off the floor.”

“S-sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. 

“Are you gonna bring it to me?” the Phantom asked. 

Now Emma realized that the voice came from behind the black curtain again. She willingly walked through the lair, over to the black curtain where she stopped and waited. Fought the impulse to just shove the curtain aside and see what and who was behind it. But before her silly impulse got the best of her, a hand emerged from behind the curtain. 

Emma carefully extended the plate of lasagna forward, and once sure that the Phantom was holding on to it, she let go. The plate disappeared behind the curtain along with the woman’s hand. 

“I’ve got a fork too,” Emma said a bit halfheartedly and tried to pull herself together. “And... And some other food too if you-“ she failed utterly.

“Then set it down on the ground, little Swan,” the Phantom said and sounded like she was bored. Again. 

So Emma did. She carefully put the bread rolls and apple and the two chocolate bars onto the ground along with the fork. In her eagerness, she ended up hauling the book out of her bag as well, and the Phantom’s hand brushed against it as it appeared and pulled the food under the curtain. She could hear the sound of the fork scraping lightly against the plate, and as Emma stood there and wondered what her next move should be, the Phantom spoke again:

“The lasagna’s taste has changed since the last time I tried it,” she said. “What is that extra spice?”

“Red pepper flakes?” Emma replied somewhat confused. “It, uhh... it gives it an extra kick.”

“Oh, I see. Goodbye.” 

But Emma had no intention of leaving. Not yet. “Are you not surprised to see me?” she asked. 

“No,” the Phantom said shortly. “We made a deal and I expected you to keep up your end of the bargain.” She said nothing else, but Emma could hear the faint sound of her chewing. Emma immediately took advantage of the silence: 

“Why... Why do you live down here?” 

“It’s my home.”

That wasn’t an answer. At least not one that Emma was satisfied with. “Yes, but...why?”

The Phantom sighed and it sounded like she was in agony when she said: “because I happen to like music, little Swan. And what better place is there than this if one enjoy music?”

Emma could sense that that wasn’t the whole truth. But she wasn’t quite bold enough to press the issue. “Is the food alright?” she asked instead. 

“The food is fine.”

“Okay. That’s good. Good thing you’re not allergic to any of the things I brought, I wasn’t sure about that and I was a bit nervous to-“

“My goodness, how you talk,” the Phantom lazily interrupted. “Blah-blah-blah. It’s quite exhausting.”

Emma blushed. “S-sorry. I talk a lot when I get n-nervous.”

“Hmm.” The Phantom laughed without any real amusement behind the curtain. “So I make you nervous?”

Emma said nothing. Because she couldn’t run from the ice cold facts. The Phantom DID make her nervous. 

“If I make you so nervous, then why are you here?” the Phantom drawled, voice honey sweet and now slightly amused. She clearly enjoyed making fun of Emma. But for some reason, Emma couldn’t make herself feel any anger about it. 

“Because I promised to bring you food,” Emma said. “I didn’t want you to be hungry.”

The Phantom laughed again without any real amusement. Then she went quiet. For so long, the sound of her teeth sinking into the apple made Emma jump a little. God, she was jittery tonight! That irritated her. She had hoped to be a little more cool and collected. 

“Red apples,” the Phantom commented. “Good choice. Why are you still here?”

Why was Emma still there? Good question. She had no answers. At least none she could think of right now. The sound of the Phantom chewing on the apple was a little too distracting. She had to break the silence somehow. 

“Are you gonna come out from there?” she asked hopefully. 

“No.”

“Why not?” Emma asked disappointed and tried not to pout. That was childish. 

“Why should I?” the Phantom calmly retorted. 

“Because... Because I want to see you?” where did that even come from? 

The Phantom scoffed, unamused. “I’m not some animal in a zoo for you to gawk at, little Swan. And I wouldn’t want to rattle your again...”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“I believe you,” the Phantom said lightly. “But that still doesn’t mean that I want to be stared at by you.”

“I wasn’t gonna stare at you.”

“Yes, you would, little Swan. Don’t lie to me. It won’t do you any good. Lying will only put me in a foul mood. And when I’m in a foul mood... Well...” she chuckled as though she had made a very funny joke. 

“I’m not lying,” Emma said quietly, fully aware of the sincerity seeping through every word.

The Phantom said nothing. But Emma heard her take a bite of something that went ‘snap!’ when being bitten into. Most likely one of the chocolate bars. 

“Do you like the chocolate?” she asked dumbly. 

“Yes, I do. But one piece would have sufficed. I am not in the mood to have my teeth ruined.”

“Oh. I’m sor-“

“No matter. I’m sure the apple will make up for it somehow.” 

Emma heard footsteps behind the curtain. What was the Phantom doing? Before Emma could come up with an answer, she saw the Phantom’s hand remerge from under the curtain. It scrabbled for a moment before grabbing onto Emma’s book and pulling it under the curtain. “Let’s see....” she said lightly. “Oh. A Study in Scarlet.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Emma proudly told her. 

“Is it now? No ditzy love stories?”

“No!” Emma huffed. Even though she actually quite fancied ditzy love stories from time to time. But that wasn’t something the Phantom needed to know. 

“Well, it is a good one,” the Phantom said, and Emma imagined her weighing the book in her hand. “You appear to have good taste. When it comes to books, that is.” 

“Would you like to borrow it?” Emma heard herself ask. 

That seemed to throw the Phantom off for a moment. Her voice dripped with disbelief when she echoed: “borrow it?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, reminding herself not to ramble. “I just figured... you probably don’t get a whole lot of reading done down here.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But borrowing involves returning this to you.”

“I could just come back and get it?” Emma suggested. “Maybe if I....”

“Maybe if you what? Finish your sentences, little Swan.”

“If I brought you some more food tomorrow night,” Emma said slowly. “You could return the book to me.”

“Why would you want to bring me food again? You already kept up your end of the bargain.”

“I know. But you’ll be hungry again tomorrow night, right?”

The Phantom said nothing, and Emma took the woman’s silence as acceptance. 

“I’ll come back tomorrow night,” she said boldly. 

“You really think I’m interested in seeing you again?”

“Strictly speaking, you haven’t seen me tonight,” Emma pointed out. “Only talked to me.”

“Careful now,” the Phantom warned silkily. “Don’t get smart with me, little Swan.”

Emma sucked in a breath and repeated: “I’ll come back tomorrow night.” 

“If you must,” The Phantom said, seemingly bored again. “Now go away, little Swan. I have reading to do.”

If that wasn’t her cue to leave, Emma didn’t know what was. Exactly as yesterday, her visit in the lair had been but brief, but she wasn’t disappointed about it. Not when she knew that she would come back tomorrow night. She grabbed her backpack and walked back towards the circular opening. But before she slipped out in the dark passageway, she turned her head and quietly asked: “who are you?”

“The Phantom of the Opera....” the woman replied, and the way she said it sounded positively ghostly. Goosebumps appeared on Emma’s skin, and she had to rub her arms slightly. 

“But who are you really?” she asked a tad hoarsely. 

“No one. The Phantom of the Opera is who I am and will always be. No go away, little miss Swan. Go away and leave me alone.”

Emma would do that. Until tomorrow. “I’ll... I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Perhaps you will. If you don’t get lost on the way,” the Phantom cackled quietly. 

And so Emma left the lair. With one book less in her backpack and the certainty that the Phantom was humming softly to herself in the lair... 

To Be Continued.......


	15. Sing For Me

The following day Emma did exactly the same again. She psyched herself out through breakfast, could barely keep focusing when rehearsing. She was a bundle of nerves, and singing was about the last thing on her mind. She was much too busy thinking about underground lairs and hands appearing behind black curtains, and-

“Miss Swan. Please pay attention!” Malena scolded with a rare sternness in her voice. 

Emma blushed profusely. Could feel a warmth spread from her cheeks, down her neck and all the way up to the tips of her ears. “S-sorry,” she whispered and hated how her voice trembled. How her chin wobbled. She had tried many times to learn to control that part of herself, but so far with little result. She hated when people yelled at her. Not that Malena had yelled. Not really. Her voice had just been louder than normally, and Emma didn’t like that either. She didn’t like being named in front of a group. She didn’t like being scolded in front of anyone. It was pathetic, but that was just how she felt. 

Lily gave her a funny look, mouthed “you good?” and Emma smiled and nodded. “Just a bit distracted,” she muttered lowly, feeling the tips of her ears pinken deeper and her stomach churning.

“From the beginning, please!” Malena said, now definitely irritated. “Nella fantasia!”

Everyone in the choir started singing. Including Emma. “Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo giusto, li tutti vivano in pace e in onesta, Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere .Come le nuvole che volano, pien' d'umanita in fondo all'anima,” she sang lowly. She noted that Malena was still looking at her, and Emma realized that from where her teacher was standing, it probably looked like she was just miming and not actually singing the words. If only Emma had had the courage to sing a bit louder. But she had gotten nervous now. That was what happened when she was scolded. Her anxiety ran away with her, and she started doubting herself. Supposed she messed up the lyrics? Supposed she got carried away and accidentally sang louder than Ruby who was the front singer? That would be awful. To avoid Malena’s gaze, Emma kept her head down and looked at the sheets of papers in her hand. She pretended to be reading the lyrics they were singing, but really, she was beating herself up about this. 

What on earth was the matter with her these days? She really had to pull herself together. Think about singing when she was rehearsing and make sure not to draw attention to herself. Otherwise people would start to suspect that something was going on, and that was the one thing Emma wanted to avoid. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself by being scolded by Malena and thereby prompting Lily or Ruby to ask her questions. She couldn’t. If she did that... If someone managed to coax her secret out of her... That would be a disaster. No one was supposed to know of the Phantom of the Opera. No one had known before Emma blundered into the lair, and Emma was determined to keep it that way. She could do that. Of course she could. She just had to keep her mouth shut and nothing else. That wasn’t so hard, was it? 

Emma sang like she was supposed to. Kept her eyes on the sheets of notes and lyrics in her hand, but she was experiencing a sort of prickling sensation at the back of her neck. A persistent feeling that she was being watched. Goosebumps erupted on Emma’s skin, and she didn’t dare taking a look around. She didn’t want to be scolded by Malena again, but she couldn’t quell the feeling that the choir and Malena weren’t the only people present here. She had the strongest hunch that the Phantom was here too. Watching them. Listening to them. She enjoyed music, she had said so herself. A shiver ran down Emma’s spine, but she wasn’t sure that the shiver necessarily meant something bad.

During their free period after the early rehearsal, most of the students hung out in the canteen for an early snack. While the others chitchatted, Emma kept to herself. Kept her nose in a book. That was the best way to avoid any conversation. She didn’t need to make accidental eye contact with anyone. Killian had caught up with her when they left the stage room, and he had curiously asked where her head had been at during today’s rehearsal. Because that was the sort of thing that stuck out like a sore thumb. Emma had experienced some “friendly bullying” for being notoriously focusing on rehearsing, so if she weren’t paying attention, and even scolded for it, her fellow choir-members would surely notice it. And ask questions about. 

Emma turned another page in the book she was pretending to reading. Her head wasn’t in it at all. Her thoughts were swirling around the Phantom’s lair and the Phantom herself. Would tonight be the night, Emma wondered. Would she get a glimpse of the Phantom tonight? Or would the Phantom stubbornly stay behind the curtain? Emma wondered how long she was gonna keep doing that. And how many times was Emma supposed to apologize for having fainted? She felt like she had already apologized enough to make her blue in the face. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for the Phantom. But what WOULD be enough for her, then? 

Emma had no answers to that. And she wasn’t counting on finding any tonight either. The Phantom didn’t strike her as the type who ever gave anyone straight answers. Unfortunately. But Emma could wait. She could make up more excuses to come back again and again, and eventually, somehow, the Phantom was bound to emerge from behind that curtain, right? Surely, she couldn’t stay there forever. 

Emma chose to believe that. She had to. Otherwise she would possibly go mad. Because she was desperate to get another look at the Phantom. She had only seen her once, and barely even then. Just a white mask and lots of long, dark hair. That had been all. If only she hadn’t fainted!

Emma returned to her room. Being amongst other people was clearly a scary thing to do right now. She was so deadly afraid of making eye contact with anyone. Being in her room was so much safer. 

She flopped down on the bed. Belly down and with her ankles crossed in the air. She opened her book again. It wasn’t true when she told the Phantom she didn’t like ‘ditzy’ love stories. She actually did.   
And especially ‘Pride and Prejudice’. What would the Phantom say if she knew that? Would she laugh or perhaps ridicule Emma for it? Emma glanced back at the mirror. What was the Phantom doing right now? Still hiding behind that curtain? Emma had driven herself mad wondering what could possibly behind that curtain. Last night she had dreamed that there was another secret passage there. A passage leading out of the opera. A way for the Phantom to get some fresh air. Because surely, she wasn’t spending her every moment down in that lair, right? She had to get out of there occasionally. Otherwise she would go mad. Anyone would. 

Emma absentmindedly turned another page in the book. Maybe the Phantom was reading too right now. In Emma’s book. For some reason, Emma sort of liked that. She liked the idea of having something to offer the Phantom. Well, something that wasn’t just food. Of course food was important, but so was entertainment. How did one pass the time if one lived in an underground lair? Emma hadn’t seen other books anywhere. The Phantom probably got bored out of her mind sometimes. Emma definitely would if she was the one who lived in an underground lair. Listening to the music coming from above couldn’t be enough to fill your day completely. 

Emma got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror. Not to look at her reflection, but to give the mirror a little shove. Just a teeny tiny one. Just to check. She was allowed to hope a little bit, wasn’t she? 

But of course the old mirror didn’t budge an inch. Emma hadn’t expected it to, really. But still, she felt like she had to check. Just to make sure. Now she wished she hadn’t, though. It was a bit frustrating. Exactly as frustrated as it had been last night when Emma had gone back through the passageway and had found that the way back to her room, the way she had used the very first time had been blocked. The Phantom had clearly been busy, Emma had thought bitterly to herself. Perhaps she was still testing her. Seeing how long Emma was willing to go through the trouble of having to sneak back to the crypt. Yes. That was probably exactly what the Phantom was doing. Maybe she was even hoping that Emma would soon grow tired of this little game. But Emma hadn’t been called “stubborn little one” by her mom for nothing. She tipped her chin up as she looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m going to come back,” she vowed. “I’m not going to stop. No matter how difficult you’re going to make it.” She turned her back on the mirror and hopped back in her bed. She doubted that “anyone” had heard her, and she felt a little bit silly for talking to herself like this. A bell chimed somewhere, and Emma recognized the lunch signal. It was time to leave her room. Her stomach rumbled appreciatingly. She hadn’t eaten as much as she should for breakfast. She could feel that now. Could feel how hungry she really was. Perhaps she would treat herself to a chocolate bar if she could find one. The Phantom wasn’t the only one who liked chocolate. She hopped off the bed and managed to trip over her own feet. 

“Shoot,” she muttered to herself. She regained her balance and walked over to the door, but when putting a hand on the doorknob, she could have sworn she heard a soft, melodic laughter. Emma’s head whipped around. Perhaps someone had listened to her all along. Or perhaps she was just making stuff up. That could very well be the case as well. Once again, Emma felt that prickling sensation at the back of her neck, and she felt so tempted to stay in her room a little longer....

Lunch came and went, and the afternoon lessons rolled around. This time, Emma made sure not to get scolded for not paying attention. She kept her head down and sang along with the rest of the choir, but not too loudly of course. The scolding she had received had made her even more aware of herself. It had been horrible, suddenly to be addressed in front of everyone, and not just because Emma currently was keeping a secret. As she sang, she felt a tight ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. She really had to struggle to make her voice sound like more than just a whisper. She was afraid that someone would look at her. Afraid to make eye contact with anyone while she sang. In between singing, and as Malena directed and instructed, Emma took deep breaths and did her best to quell the anxiety she was feeling, but the damage was already done. She had temporarily become afraid of singing. But fortunately enough, that had happened before. Many, many times. It wasn’t a permanent condition, and Emma knew exactly how to handle it. When todays lessons were over (and when she had done her secret task), she would return to her room. She would put on her headphones and listen to some calming music. She would close her eyes and take deep breaths and she would remind herself that she was good. That her voice was good. That Malena wouldn’t have chosen her in a ground of hundred other girls if she hadn’t been good. Maybe her voice wasn’t the strongest, but there was still plenty of time for it to develop. A singer’s voice matured from their 20’s to their early 40’s. Yes, there was plenty of time for Emma’s voice to reach its full potential. And in the meantime, she would try and control her anxiety before it got the best of her like it had so many times before. She reminded herself not to get rattled so easily. What had happened today was nothing, really. Plenty of the other members from the choir was scolded too. It was no big deal, and Emma was determined to convince herself of that. 

“Again,” Malena instructed the choir. “From the beginning.”

Emma sang along with everyone else, and while the voices of the choir soared and filled the stage room, Emma was ninety eight percent sure she could hear something else as well. A slight... rustling. Did her ears perceive her? Was she imagining things again or was there a chance that they weren’t alone? Was the Phantom perhaps hiding somewhere? In box five, perhaps? Emma was almost desperate to sneak a glance up there, but she didn’t quite have the guts to do so. She was afraid that Malena would see it and call her out on it. And that would be awful. Being scolded once was bad enough, but twice in one day? No. Just no. Emma’s anxiety would come rushing like water breaking through a dam. 

Emma wisely kept her gaze firmly fixated on the lyrics they were singing. She really couldn’t risk getting in trouble with Mal a second time. 

They rehearsed “Nella Fantasia” and “O, Mio Babbino Caro” three times each, and then it was Ruby’s turn to sing solo. Now Emma could get the chance to scan the stage room from top to bottom. Every little nook and cranny. Well, except for the place she actually wanted to take a closer look at. Box five. With Emma being on the ground, and the box so high, she had absolutely no possibility of seeing whether someone was up there or not, and it was very frustrating, because Emma had the strongest hunch that someone was in fact up there. Watching them. Watching HER. Maybe even feeling amused about her obvious frustration. That seemed like something the Phantom could do. Feel amused about her frustration. 

Lily gave her a slight nudge, and Emma quickly turned her head and smiled at her friend. Nothing to see here. Nothing strange going on at all. At least that was what she was trying to communicate to Lily. And it would appear that Lily understood. She returned Emma’s smile and even reached out to give her hand a squeeze. Emma returned the squeeze, but she couldn’t help but feeling a tad confused. She felt as though Lily’s smile had been a bit more than just friendly. That was unfortunate. Emma didn’t want to get mixed up in anything with Malena’s daughter. Or anyone else for that matter. She suffocated an inappropriate chuckle. She was already plenty mixed up in things already. Emma had never been a secretive girl. And now she was harboring what felt like the biggest secret ever. However ridiculous it sounded, Emma felt a bit special. She was the one who had discovered the Phantom. She and she alone. But the feeling of being special only lasted until she remembered that she actually hadn’t done that much to discover the secret. All she had done was moving into Christine’s old room. The Phantom had actually done the rest, Emma realized. Left the mirror open. Given little clues here and there. But intentionally? Had it been her plan all along to make Emma come into her lair? No. Of course not. Why would she do that? Assuming that it had been intentionally was silly. 

When dinner time rolled around, Emma actually felt sort of prepared to enact the little scheme once again. Along with the others, she walked up and got her dinner. Four chicken drumsticks instead of two.   
There was mashed potatoes on the menu tonight, and as much as she wanted to, Emma obviously couldn’t stuff that inside her bag. She would have to carry the plate of mashed potatoes through the underground tunnel and just pray that she didn’t trip. 

But at least she could wrap two of the chicken drumsticks up in napkins and discreetly stuff them inside her bag. Emma had sat down at the same table as last time, and she was currently dragging her fork through the mashed potatoes as to mark how much of it she would eat, and how much of it she would safe for the Phantom, when Ruby suddenly showed up. The older brunette smiled. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Emma said and flashed the older girl a smile. 

“You wanna come and sit with Belle and I?” Ruby offered. “There’s plenty of room for one more.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m all good.”

“You’re sure? You don’t have to sit alone if you don’t want to.”

“I’m actually a bit tired,” Emma lied, still smiling. “I needed a little... people break.”

“Oh,” Ruby chuckled. “Yeah, I get it.” she glanced at Emma’s enormous portion of mashed potatoes. “Holy cow.”

“Yeah, I’m... just really hungry tonight,” Emma said, cringing at the high-pitched squeakiness in her voice. Her voice always went all squeaky when she was lying. Or, attempting to. That squeakiness had   
busted her a few times already. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” Ruby chuckled. “But that’s totally fine. Singing always tends to make me hungry as well. You’re sure you don’t wanna come sit with us?”

“I’m sure,” Emma said. “But thanks though. For asking, I mean.”

“No problem,” Ruby said lightly and patted Emma’s shoulder as she walked back to her own table. 

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. If Ruby had come ten seconds earlier, she would have seen Emma stuff the chicken drumsticks inside her bag. And that would have been pretty awkward. A chicken drumstick was not exactly something you stored away to eat as a late-night snack. It was just plain weird. A sure invitation for Ruby to ask her questions. Emma would probably squeak her replies, and then just like that, she would be busted. 

She scarfed a bit of the mashed potato inside her mouth, but she wasn’t really hungry. She was far too jittery at the prospect of talking to the Phantom again. Hopefully the conversation would be at least a little bit longer tonight. Emma was so eager to learn more about the mysterious woman behind the curtain. So eager, that any little information could be considered valuable....

Emma wasn’t quite sure how she managed to do it. Doing it once had seemed impossible, but doing it twice? That was something that simply shouldn’t be possible. But it was. 

Exactly like last night, Emma slipped through the door, walked down the stairs, and soon found herself back in the crypt. Back in the room where Christine Daaé’s picture smiled down at her. Emma glanced up at the picture and wondered if this was how things had begun for Christine as well. Had she too brought the Phantom food? Emma supposed that could have happened. It actually seemed pretty possible. The Phantom hadn’t seem at all surprised by Emma’s return last night. That could be an indicator that this wasn’t that much of a new situation for her. Or maybe her lack of reaction had simply been boredom and nothing else. That could very well be the case as well. 

Emma briefly sat the plate of mashed potatoes down on the floor. She needed both her hands to push at the mirror, and she grunted a bit from sheer effort. This mirror wasn’t budging as easily as the one in her room had done, and for a spit second, Emma imagined that the Phantom had been here to tighten it further as to challenge her. If that was the case, the effort was completely wasted. Emma grinned triumphantly to herself as the old mirror slid back and revealed the almost familiar entrance to the secret passage. She had done it again. She had managed to sneak down here for a second time.   
If this continued, she would end up becoming quite the little expert. 

If this continued. Emma felt a tingle of excitement in her belly as she adjusted her backpack which was full of chicken drumsticks and bread rolls and two chocolate bars. She really did hope that this continued. Which didn’t make sense, because normally she never did something like this. She had never looked for thrills and excitement outside of her books. That had been her world, and she had been very satisfied with it. But now her books didn’t quite cut it any longer. Not when she knew that there were things such as underground lairs and mysterious, masked women hiding in them. No, searching for excitement within her books definitely wasn’t enough for her anymore. Not when the biggest excitement was hidden right here below the opera. 

Emma made sure to be very careful as she walked through the tunnel. She didn’t want to spill mashed potatoes all over. It was for the Phantom. She wasn’t supposed to spill it everywhere. Her footsteps echoed slightly in the quiet tunnel and Emma could feel that she was going giddy over yet another successful “disappearance’. She began to softly sing to herself. ‘Nella Fantasia’ again. It couldn’t harm to rehearse a bit more. Especially not after the scolding she had received for not paying attention earlier. Her gut twisted a little at the memory. She would just have to do better tomorrow. And she would. Of course she would. She would be way more focused tomorrow. Because tonight she would get at least one of her many questions answered, she had decided. 

Emma walked quicker this time. She was slowly starting to learn to find her way around in these underground tunnels, and so she soon made it into the underground lair. It looked pretty empty. Could almost have looked abandoned if it hadn’t been for all the many lit candles. And the fact that the Phantom’s feather cloak were laying a bit different from last night. Emma was willing to bet everything that the Phantom had been out and about today. Squinting behind her glasses, Emma glanced around in the lair. Where was the Phantom? She couldn’t hear her anywhere. Maybe she was still.... somewhere. Emma obviously couldn’t say exactly where that was, but she did know that she didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to her. She would stay here and wait until she came back. That wouldn’t be a problem at all. Maybe it would delay her journey back to the crypt a little, but that was okay. Emma was optimistic enough to believe that she could sneak back to her room without being noticed. She sat the plate of mashed potatoes down on the floor and began to explore the lair a little. She slowly ran a hand over the Phantom’s feather cloak. It was soft, very soft. She wondered where the Phantom had acquired such a garment? And all the candles. Where had those come from? And WHO was the Phantom of the Opera? That was the question Emma kept asking herself over and over again. And that was perhaps the greatest mystery of them all. That and the Phantom’s mysterious connection to Christine Daaé. Another question Emma so desperately wanted an answer to, but she was afraid to ask the Phantom directly. She was afraid of making the other woman angry. She was afraid of discovering that the entrance behind the mirror in the crypt had been blocked. 

When would the Phantom be coming back, Emma wondered as she reluctantly moved her hand away from the feather cloak. She’d just had some crazy urge to try on the cloak, so it was probably best to stop touching it. She wouldn’t want the Phantom to walk in and discover that Emma was wearing her things. That would most definitely make her angry. The certain way to discover that another mirror had been blocked. 

Emma hummed softly to herself once again. Not ‘Nella Fantasia’ this time, but ‘Someday My Prince Will Come’. Sometimes one just needed to sing something that wasn’t rehearsal songs. Emma remembered how the Phantom’s humming had seemed to follow her out of the lair last night, and she became curious as to how it would sound if she sang in here instead of just humming. Would her voice echo in the same ethereal way the Phantom’s had done last night? Trying it was definitely worth a shot, wasn’t it? 

“’Someday, my prince will come, someday, we’ll meet again. And away to his castle we’ll go, to be happy forever; I know,’” Emma sang to herself and laughed a little. Who could have guessed that singing would sound so good in an underground lair? Her voice seemed to echo in a particular way. Seemed to soar a little extra. Not quite as ethereal as the Phantom’s, but still, it sounded really special down here.

“’Someday, when spring is here, we’ll find our love anew. And the birds will sing, and wedding bells will ring! Someday, when my dreams, come true.’ The last tune seemed to linger in the cave and Emma’s grin widened. Somehow it seemed to sound even better than when she had been on stage earlier. Was it possible that she dared to sing a bit louder when she was down here? Maybe. Either way, Emma couldn’t resist to keep singing: “’Someday, my prince will come, someday, we’ll meet again. And away to his castle we’ll go, to be happy forever; I know!” her voice sounded like bells down here. Gentle bells filling the underground lair. If Malena had heard this, she surely wouldn’t have scolded Emma. Giddy by her success, she kept going: “’Someday, when spring is here, we’ll find our love anew. And the birds will sing, and wedding bells will-“ a sudden sound from behind her made Emma yelp in surprise. Startled she looked around in bewilderment. God, that scared her so much! She cleared her throat and tried to remember how to breathe normally. “H-hello?”

“No, keep singing,” came the Phantom’s curt voice from behind the curtain. Had she been there all along and just quietly observed her? Emma had a feeling that that was exactly the case. The Phantom had been here all along. She just hadn’t felt like announcing herself until now. But with what purpose? Was she perhaps hoping that Emma would poke around and pry so she could get an excuse to banish her from the lair?

“W-what?” Emma asked. The Phantom’s request hadn’t registered with her at all. She had been way too startled to focus on anything but the fact that the Phantom had been there all along. 

“Keep singing,” the Phantom repeated. 

“Uhh...” now the request definitely sank in. Emma felt dumb like never before as she asked: “you want me to keep singing?” 

“Yes,” the Phantom said plainly. 

Emma bit her lip. “What, uhh... What would you like me to sing?”

“Anything,” the Phantom said lightly, and it sounded like she was sitting down on something....soft? Her raspy voice was equally soft, almost like velvet as she ordered: “Sing for me, little Swan.”

Emma cleared her throat once more. Then she began to sing once more: “’ O mio babbino caro, mi piace, è bello, bello. Vo' andare in Porta Rossa, A comperar l'anello!” she let the last tone hang in the lair and licked her lips anxiously. Her voice still sounded like little bells filling the lair. 

“Keep going,” the Phantom encouraged. She didn’t sound bored out of her mind any longer, Emma noted. She sounded, well... interested. The idea of having the Phantom’s attention made Emma feel all the more anxious. More so than when she was singing for Malena. 

“Go on.” the Phantom ordered. 

“’ Sì, sì, ci voglio andare! E se l'amassi indarno, Andrei sul Ponte Vecchio, Ma per buttarmi in Arno! Mi struggo e mi t-tormento!’” oh, why did she have to stutter at the end? That wasn’t fair! But she couldn’t help feeling that she was being judged by a very strict teacher. 

“Last part. Go on, little Swan.”

Emma tried to pull herself together, and she felt like it paid off. Her voice only sounded a little bit breathy when she sang the last part: “’ O Dio, vorrei morir! Babbo, pietà, pietà! Babbo, pietà, pietà!’” she felt rather satisfied with herself. That was actually good. Nice and clear like bells. Had she been singing like this at the rehearsal, she definitely wouldn’t have been scolded by Malena. She would have been praised instead. 

“Not bad,” the Phantom said. “But your voice is fragile. Like glass threatening to break. And you’re not breathing correctly either. You need to work on that.”

Emma swallowed thickly. Her throat felt a bit tight. And she thought she had done pretty good. But in a matter of seconds the Phantom had reduced her to a struggling student. And for some reason, that made Emma feel defiant: “rather be fragile than sounding like a rusty old hinge,” she muttered to herself. 

“What did you say?!” the Phantom’s voice was as cold and sharp as a whiplash, yet no louder than a snake hissing at you, and Emma’s blood ran cold as she shivered slightly. 

“N-nothing,” she stuttered, blushing again. 

“I thought so,” the Phantom said, immediately sounding calm and, well.... bored again. “Do you have something for me tonight, little Swan?”

“Y-yeah. I mean, yes,” Emma said, rushing and nearly stumbling over her own feet as she first grabbed the plate of mashed potatoes and then walked over to the black curtain with her backpack. She crouched down and unzipped the backpack. Pulled the wrapped drumsticks out and pushed them underneath the curtain along with the plate and the two chocolate bars. 

“What a feast,” the Phantom said and only sounded a little bit ironic. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Emma said. Her head was spinning. First critique and anger and now gratitude? She couldn’t keep up. 

The fork scraped over the plate as the Phantom ate, and Emma immediately took the opportunity: “can I ask you something?”

“You already are,” the Phantom lazily pointed out. “And I might not give you an answer, but by all means go ahead, little Swan.”

“Were you watching us rehearse earlier today?” Emma asked curiously. 

“Oh,” the Phantom chuckled hoarsely, and the scraping sound stopped momentarily. “Yes. I was.”

“Oh,” Emma said. She wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. 

“Quite perceptive of you, little Swan.”

“I just... I had a feeling,” Emma said awkwardly. 

“Yes. I’m sure you did,” the other woman replied slightly mockingly. 

"Were you behind the mirror in my room too?" Emma asked eagerly. 

She received no answer to that. Just scraping across the plate.

Emma tried again. “Can I ask you something else?”

The Phantom sighed. “If this is about my name again, you might as well just leave right now...”

“No-no, it’s not that,” Emma said hastily. She knew better than to ask about that. “I was just wondering... how did you learn to sing?”

“I didn’t.”

“Huh?” 

“One day when I was quite young, I opened my mouth and started to sing,” the Phantom briefly summarized. “I didn’t learn it anywhere. Certain things cannot be learned.”

“That’s really...” Emma let the sentence die. She wasn’t completely sure how it was gonna end anyway. If she praised the Phantom, she would probably just laugh at her and say something sarcastic in response. 

“How are your lessons coming along?” the Phantom asked, surprising Emma completely. 

“Oh, uhm... they’re good. Yeah. It’s good. I like being here.”

“You weren’t concentrating today.”

Emma flushed and was actually relieved the Phantom couldn’t see her. “I was.”

“Why?” the Phantom asked simply.

“I don’t know. I was just-“

“Maybe you should focus on your breathing technique instead of looking around to try and get a glimpse of me.” 

Emma felt defiant again. “But you were the one who came to my rehearsal-“

“I was not. I’ve been listening to choirs rehearsing long before you arrived, little Swan.”

Emma saw an opportunity and grasped it: “how long have you been here?”

The Phantom laughed without any amusement. “Quite a while.” 

“Yes, but for how long exactly?” Emma pressed.

“Years and years. Question-time is over. Goodbye.”

Emma hesitated. “I’ll....see you tomorrow?”

“Will you indeed?” the Phantom mocked. 

“Yes,” Emma said firmly. “I will.”

“Fine. Bring me back an apple. A nice, red one. And mind your lessons. Stop looking for ghosts that may or may not be there and pay attention to your breathing technique instead.”

“Fine,” Emma half-grumbled. “See you tomorrow!”

“Oh yes,” the Phantom drawled. “I can hardly wait, little Swan.”

Ignoring the sarcasm, Emma walked towards the opening of the lair, but halfway there she stopped and turned her head: “could you maybe help me?”

“With what?”

“With my breathing technique. And the...fragility. I’ve actually tried to control it, and make it stronger, and-“

“And now you want my help?” The Phantom scoffed. 

“Yes?” Emma asked nervously. “I was just... wondering. You... You seem to know a lot about it.”

“I do,” the Phantom said plainly. “And maybe I can. Eventually.”

“Really?”

The Phantom didn’t answer that. Instead she said: “I haven’t finished your book yet. You’ll get it back tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine. Do you like it?”

“It’s very satisfying. I haven’t read in a while.” She went silent again, and Emma chose to take the hint. 

“Goodbye,” she said quietly. 

The Phantom didn’t answer. Instead her rich and husky voice teased Emma as she mockingly sang: “’Someday, my prince will come, someday, we’ll meet again. And away to his castle we’ll go, to be happy forever, I know...”

Emma left the lair with blushing cheeks and a strange, sweet sound in her ears. The sound of the Phantom’s voice following her out in the tunnel and all the way back to her room....

To Be Continued..........


	16. Little Prying Pandora

However odd it sounded, Emma actually fell into some sort of routine over the next week. She brought the Phantom food, still getting away with it and not being entirely sure how she even managed. The Phantom stayed hidden behind the thick black curtain every time Emma came to see her, but she seemed to have accepted that Emma stayed for a few minutes and talked afterwards. The Phantom rarely answered any questions Emma might have, and the few times she did answer, the reply was always something bitingly sarcastic and sharp. But Emma still appreciated the odd little “curtain-talks” she had with the Phantom. When you looked past all the sarcasm and bite, it was easy to detect that the Phantom was an interesting person. Emma could sense that the woman hiding behind the curtain had a history. An interesting, thrilling and maybe even shocking history. And Emma couldn’t wait for the Phantom to open up and tell her that story. Emma was going to be patient. She’d come back again and again with food and talk to the Phantom. And someday, eventually, the Phantom had to open up and tell Emma everything about her history. Including the murder of Christine Daaé. Emma hadn’t gotten closer to solving that either, but as oddly as it sounded, that wasn’t bothering her as much as it had done. Not because she was willing to close her eyes and forget that an eighteen year old girl had been murdered, of course not. It was just that her thoughts had been elsewhere. She had been more interested in talking to the Phantom and getting to know her rather than conducting some sort of murder investigation. The Phantom probably wouldn’t have answered any questions Emma might have had about that subject anyway. Emma wasn’t sure how to start THAT conversation, and she had been more preoccupied with the fact that the Phantom had started to ask her to sing after having given her the food. “Sing for me, little Swan”, she demanded from behind the curtain, and Emma had sung. Always the songs they were rehearsing in the choir. The Phantom never said anything while Emma was singing, but she always went “hmm” afterwards. Emma had developed the habit of challenging “what?” when the Phantom went “hmm”, but the Phantom never responded to the challenge. She always changed the subject and started talking about the food Emma had brought her. She had a profound fondness for apples. Red ones, to be specific. Emma knew this because she one night had brought the Phantom a green apple instead. The Phantom had sneered and told Emma so it couldn’t be mistaken, that she preferred red apples. The next night Emma had brought her a red one instead. One that she had spend five minutes on using her sleeve to polish until it shone. The Phantom hadn’t commented on it, but she hadn’t complained either, and Emma deduced that she was satisfied. 

Sometimes the Phantom had questions for Emma. About her lessons and the choir. And as opposed to the Phantom, Emma willingly answered every single question. The Phantom was particularly interested in knowing exactly HOW Malena or Mme. Carlotta rehearsed them. What sort of techniques they used to teach the choir. She never commented on it when Emma told her, but Emma was sure she could hear the other woman click her tongue in disdain. 

Another thing that had started to happen was the Phantom stopping Emma right before she left the lair and giving her some sort of advice. “Your shoulders are too tense when you sing”, she could dryly state. When Emma confusedly asked how she could possibly know that when she couldn’t see her, the Phantom had just scoffed and said that she could hear it. “You need to get that under control”, she’d continue. And so Emma had tried. She really had. And she had noticed that the Phantom was right. She did indeed have the habit of drawing her shoulders up to her ears when she was singing. Like it was an armor and she was trying to protect herself in some way. Relaxing her shoulders and standing with an “open” posture when she was singing was harder than expected. Emma found it difficult to be open. She found it difficult to “be seen”. But she did try. And when she came back to the Phantom’s lair she sang and showed off her progress while the Phantom ate another red apple. 

“Hmm. Not bad. But you’re still too breathy,” the Phantom would say. And then she would start commenting on the food Emma brought her. But as the night before, she had something to say right before Emma left the lair. “Lie on your back with your knees raised. Put your hands on your stomach and breathe slowly from your nostrils and fill your lower lungs. Grit your teeth and use your tongue to slowly release the trapped air. Imagine that you’re hissing or making an “S” sound. Check if you’re breathing correctly by placing a book on your abdomen and watch if it rises and drops as you inhale and exhale. If you do this exercise correctly, your voice will be able to hold a note for longer, and it will reduce the breathiness as well. But only if done correctly.”

“Thank you,” Emma would say. And the Phantom wouldn’t respond to it. She would typically just begin to sing. Sometimes she’d mock Emma and sing the song she’d just sung, but at other times she would sing songs Emma had never heard before. And that would always make the younger blonde linger at the entrance to the lair. Until the Phantom calmly said: “I can hear your breathing, little Swan. I told you to get out of here.”

And so Emma had. Always wishing that she could stay for a bit longer. Always with the Phantom’s velvet soft and mysterious voice lingering in her ear. That night she had gone back to her room and done exactly as the Phantom had instructed her to do. Admittedly, she had felt a bit silly at first, lying on her back with her knees raised like that, but she wanted to do this right. She wanted to follow the Phantom’s instructions because she had a feeling the Phantom knew what she was talking about. So she had placed her hands on her stomach and breathed slowly from her nostrils. She had filled her lower lungs with air and gritted her teeth. She had used her tongue to slowly release the air breath by breath and made that hissing sound the Phantom had talked about. Then she had placed a book on her abdomen, and she had been delighted when she saw it rise and fall. Which meant that she was indeed doing it correctly. Emma had felt ridiculously proud of herself. Stupidly prepared to go back to the Phantom’s lair and tell her that she had mastered the exercise. But then she had remembered that it was getting late and that she had no business being out of bed. Sneaking back to the crypt would be risky. It WAS risky. Every single time Emma vanished through the door in the canteen, it felt like her blood pressure had risen with five hundred percent. She was terrified of being caught, of course she was, but at the same time there was something so wonderfully thrilling about disappearing through that door. Something so gloriously forbidden about opening the mirror and disappearing into the hidden passage. The Phantom still hadn’t moved the barrier from behind the mirror in Emma’s room. Emma had carefully asked her about it once or twice, and every time the Phantom’s answer had been the same. “Finding it too difficult, little Swan? How about you just stop coming to see me every night?”

Emma had shut up then. Because she had absolutely no interest in stopping what she was doing. She wasn’t interested in NOT seeing the Phantom of the opera. And judging by the sheer dumb luck she’d had with stealing food and disappearing from the canteen, the universe wanted her to keep on visiting the Phantom of the opera. And as long as Emma could get away with the sneaking and stealing, there was nothing that could stop her from visiting the underground lair every night. If she stopped showing up, how would the Phantom get any food then? She would have to sneak out of her lair every night.   
And if she did that, there was the risk that she could be seen by someone. And if she was seen by someone, she would definitely be captured too. Captured and send away. Maybe even to prison for having trespassed. And if there was something Emma didn’t want to see, it was the Phantom being send away. To be perfectly honest, she had trouble with remembering what she had done before discovering the lair and the Phantom. What had she done to fill her evenings? No book could keep her interested anymore. No mystery novel was as intriguing as the mystery she knew was hiding in an underground lair. Emma was barely reading anymore, and that was actually a good thing because the Phantom had requested more reading material. No, she had DEMANDED more books. Food and a new book. That was what she required from Emma. Food and a book. And in return she would spare a few minutes to talk to Emma and give her these really useful advices that improved her singing. Emma wasn’t quite sure her interactions with the Phantom could be defined as a friendship just yet. It was an odd little thing, but she really enjoyed it. And she was eager to see it develop into an actual friendship. She so wanted to be let into the Phantom’s world. To hear the Phantom’s story. Because there was one. Emma had so many questions. Where did the Phantom come from? How did she become the Phantom of the opera? How did she become Christine Daaé’s Angel of Music? And why was she wearing that mysterious white mask Emma only had caught the faintest glimpse of?

Emma could only hope that she one day would get an answer to all her questions. She was prepared to wait. She prided herself in being an incredibly patient nature, and now, in this odd situation, that ability really came in handy. 

On the eight day, Emma woke up with excitement fizzling somewhere deep in her belly. A new day. Of singing. Yes. She was excited about that. But she was even more excited about the coming of the night where she once again would steal some food and stuff it into her backpack to disappear through the door. Emma chuckled to herself. She felt great. Shy and careful Emma Swan was now nicking food from the canteen and sneaking it underground to a mysterious woman who lived in a lair. The ‘old’ Emma Swan, the shy and careful girl who left Maine just a little over a month ago would never have done something like that. Being in Paris was good for her. Her stay abroad was doing exactly what she had hoped it would do. Helping her with her shyness. Albeit in a bit of an untraditional way, but that didn’t matter. Emma had tried everything else it seemed. She had been prepared to try something unorthodox, but she had never expected that it would be a mysterious, masked woman living underground who indirectly was helping her with her shyness. Emma chuckled to herself again. Sometimes fate worked in strange ways. That was what her mom always said. And it turns out that she had been more right than she could ever have expected. 

Emma quickly skittered into the bathroom to grab a shower. She caught herself singing in the shower while soaping up, and she chuckled as she wondered what on earth had brought THAT on. She had never been one for singing in the shower. That was more a thing her mom did. But apparently, now Emma was doing it too. Okay then. She decided to just roll with it and quickly grabbed the bottle of conditioner so she could get a move on. She couldn’t very well keep standing in the shower all morning. She had other things to do than showering. 

Once done with showering, Emma hastily brushed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Then she got dressed in her white chorus dress and put on a tiny bit of mascara before setting her glasses back on her nose where they belonged. She blinked a few times as to adjust to seeing the world clearly. Then she examined her appearance in the mirror. Her cheeks were a bit rosy after the shower, but apart from that she actually looked fairly decent. Awake and alert and ready to start the day. She cleared her throat like she had already started to warm up her voice. After last night’s unusual exercise she felt oddly confident. Like she could already feel an improvement in her breathing. She was probably just making it up, but sometimes your thoughts had a powerful impact, right? 

Emma skittered out of her room and into the hallway where it didn’t take long before she ran into Lily. 

“Good morning!” Emma said cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Lily said slightly surprised and then chuckled. “You’re in a good mood this morning.”

“It’s a nice day?” Emma said a bit vaguely and tried to find a reason for her cheerful mood. 

“It’s raining, Em,” Lily pointed out. Now she was really laughing.

“Oh. Right. But it’s still a nice day, though.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” still snickering, Lily linked her arm with Emma’s as they continued their walk down the hallway towards the canteen. “Good thing you’re in such a good mood when Mr. Gold is coming to hear us sing,” she said nonchalantly.

“He is? I mean, oh right, he is,” Emma rambled and felt her cheeks pinken. “Yeah. That’s gonna be awesome!”

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” Lily said and raised an eyebrow. 

Truthfully, yes Emma had completely forgotten all about it. She had simply been too busy with her little trips down to the underground lair. Mr. Gold coming to hear the choir sing had drifted to somewhere in the back of her mind until it became unimportant. It was only now when Lily was mentioning it that Emma suddenly remembered how important it actually was. 

“Of course not,” Emma said quickly. “I think I’ve just.... repressed it.”

Lily chuckled again. “Yeah, he’s a bit intimidating, isn’t he? I’m not sure whether it’s the suits, the hair or maybe the cane. But there’s just something about him that makes you talk real quietly when he walks past you.”

“You make him sound like some sort of Ebeneezer Scrooge,” Emma laughed, giving Lily a slight nudge. “I’ve met him a few times, well, run into him to be exact, but I don’t think he was that bad. I actually think he was quite nice.”

“Well, the way I see it, he’s the one who pays for all this-“ Lily gestured towards the hallways. “So he can be as intimidating as he wants, right?”

“Right,” Emma confirmed with a grin. Maybe having so much money did make people intimidating. Or at least seem intimidating. She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the cane, but it was hardly Mr. Gold’s fault that he used a cane. He couldn’t really be blamed for that, could he? Emma chuckled lightly once more. Lily commented on her good mood again, and Emma just shrugged lightly and made some sort of joke. Both of them were giggling like a couple of idiots by the time they reached the canteen.

Breakfast was over quickly, and then it was rehearsal time. Everyone gathered on the large stage and waited. Malena came in followed by Mr. Gold whose cane made a click-click-click noise and echoed slightly against the floor. 

“Good morning, everyone,” she said. “I do hope that you’re well rested for today’s rehearsal.”

Emma wasn’t particularly well rested. She’d had strange dreams about black curtains and a soft, raspy voice emerging from behind it, luring her closer. 

“-Because as you’ve might have noticed, we have a guest with us. Exactly like last week, Mr. Gold will be here for the rehearsal.” She turned her head. 

“Thank you, Malena,” the man in question said and smiled at the choir. “As always, I’m looking forward to hearing you sing.” He limped over to the first row of velvety chairs and sat down heavily, wincing as he did so. Whatever the reason for his limp was, clearly hurt, Emma thought to herself and felt sorry for him. Poor man, having to be in pain every time you took a step. That could not be very pleasant. 

“Now then, if you could please gather round and find your position,” Malena said. There was some shuffling as the choir formed two rows and found their positions. Emma found hers too. Tucked away in the back row as always. Safe and nice.

“Let’s start with warming up our voices. Follow my cue...” 

Emma automatically followed Malena’s warm up instructions. But she was thinking more about the instructions she had received from the Phantom. The way she had said them, partially like she had been bored, and partially interested. Emma often wondered what the Phantom was actually thinking when they talked. Maybe she just thought that Emma was a stupid little girl. Emma hoped not. She hoped that the Phantom somehow appreciated the company. And she wanted the Phantom to look as much forward to their meetings as Emma had started to. Which probably was bad. And strange. She didn’t even know this Phantom, and yet the meeting with the mysterious, masked woman was the highlight of Emma’s day.

Emma had to suffocated her amusement. It probably wasn’t what her mom had meant when she hinted that Emma maybe could get some new interests in Paris.

The lesson began. They started with “Ave Maria”. The choir started out and worked as a sort of backdrop, and then Ruby gradually took over and made the song hers, being the solo singer that she was.   
Her voice filled the room. Ruby had a strong voice. A steady voice. Solid. Her vibrato was always so controlled. Emma caught herself thinking that maybe it was even a little too controlled. A little too steady and solid. What was it the Phantom had said to her a few days ago? That you didn’t just use your voice for singing. You used your entire being. Mind, soul and body. A very cryptic statement Emma still wasn’t sure of what to make of. But that was the Phantom’s thing. Making cryptic statements to confuse her. She always did that. 

As Ruby sang, Emma came to think about that song she’d heard the Phantom sing last night. As usual, Emma had lingered outside the lair for a moment. To hear the Phantom sing and hoping to maybe even catch a glimpse of her. That hadn’t happened yet, but she had managed to hear a piece of the song: ‘love’s a curious thing, it often comes disguised. Look at love the wrong way, it goes unrecognized. So look with your heart, and not with your eyes, the heart understands, the heart never lies. Believe what it feels, and trust what it shows, look with your heart, the heart always knows.’ 

Unfortunately, Emma hadn’t been able to hear much more than that, but she had (and was still) so, so intrigued. And when she had left last night, she had once again wondered why the Phantom of the opera was so sad. Behind all the snarky responses and apparent boredom, there was an aura of sadness about her. It echoed in every word she sang. Sadness and longing. Emma was itching to ask her that, but she knew better than to just blurt out the question. She’d never get an answer if she did that. No, she had to be patient and wait for the Phantom to open up to her. She had to gain the Phantom’s trust first. That was the most important thing. 

The last note of “Ave Maria” echoed in the room and bounced off the walls. Malena smiled as Mr. Gold applauded. “How wonderful,” he praised and flashed them a smile. “Malena, I think this choir might be the best one you’ve coached so far. I know you’ve tutored many choirs, but this one has a certain harmony.” He looked at Ruby. “Miss Lucas, that was quite beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gold,” Ruby said and blushed proudly. 

“Let’s do one more,” Malena said. “Nella Fantasia, if you please.”

Once again, the choir started harmonizing. Ruby took the stage and began singing. Emma did her best to switch her brain off and do what the Phantom had said. Sing with every inch of her being and not just her voice. Even if she wasn’t completely sure what that meant, she would still do her best. Emma always aspired to do her best no matter the task. And it was particularly important today when Mr. Gold was here. If she stood on her tippy toes, Emma could see him as he sat there on the first row. He was holding onto his cane with both hands, and he had closed his eyes so he could focus only on listening to the music. Emma sort of liked that. Maybe Mr. Gold was the owner of the Opera Garnier, the one with all the money, as Lily put it, but he also cared about music, anyone could see that. Emma tried to block out the other choir member’s voices and focus only on her own. Could she hear any breathiness? She was tempted to claim that she couldn’t. She wanted the method to have worked already, but there probably was a bit of breathiness still. Even if she didn’t want to admit it. She had to be patient about this too. She was sure the method would work soon enough. She trusted that the Phantom had given her a good advice. Maybe she even trusted it a little too much, but she couldn’t help it. 

Mr. Gold was present for all their rehearsals that day, and somehow the Phantom of the opera was momentarily forgotten in favor of concentrating on doing her very best now that the owner of the Opera Garnier was present. This wasn’t the time to get distracted, and Emma didn’t. For once, her mind was pleasantly empty. Well, apart from thinking about the lyrics and getting it right. 

Lunch was over quickly that day. Everyone was eager to get back to rehearsing. Even Killian who sometimes could be a bit of a trickster during the rehearsals gave his utmost. Everyone was eager to impress Mr. Gold. And he was impressed. He said so after every song they sang. He called the choir “extraordinary” and “one of the best ensembles the Opera Garnier ever had”. Emma was so proud of being a part of it. “The concert in six months will be wonderful,” Mr. Gold said softly. “It’s going to be a signal. A way to show that no matter what happens, even after an event so tragic, the music still continues. Lives on.”

Everyone grew a bit somber after that. Because everyone knew what he was talking about. This concert where the new choir would sing to the public would be the first one in three years. It had been banned after Christine’s death, out of respect for her. But this concert where the new choir would be an active part of it, would be held in her honor. To remember her. The upcoming concert had already been given a name. “The Christine Daaé Concert”. There would be lit candles for her. The choir would sing her favorite songs, and the people who had known her would say a few words. Ordinarily, it was something that should have been done immediately, Malena had told them, but everyone had been far too shocked when it happened. And last year there had still been so many rumors about her dead. Of course none of the rumors were true, she had stressed out, but the teachers had still decided to wait a year out of respect for her. And to give the rumors a chance to die down. And now they had. 

Normally, a member from the new choir would be chosen to sing solo at the concert, but Malena and the other teachers had decided to leave that part out this year. Out of respect for Christine. It wouldn’t be right to let a younger choir member sing like she had. The events of what had happened after Christine had sung was still too fresh in everyone’s mind. That was why Ruby had stepped in as solo singer. She had been Christine’s best friend here, so it was only appropriate that she would be the one to sing at the concert held in her honor. And she was doing a wonderful job. Christine would have been proud of her, Emma was sure of that. Even though she hadn’t known Christine, she still felt a strong connection with her. For various reasons. Reasons she obviously couldn’t talk about. But her eyes had wandered to Box Five as she wondered if the Phantom would be there for that concert. And whether she was there right now. Sometimes Emma had the strongest feeling that the other woman was near.

When the last rehearsal had been wrapped up, Malena had a surprise for them. Tonight the choir had been given permission to go into the city and have dinner- accompanied by a herself and a couple of the older students of course- but nevertheless, it was something that got all of them excited. Well, almost anyway. 

Mr. Gold laughed quietly at the choir’s excited squabbling and declared that this was his cue to leave. His cane clack-clack-clack’ed against the floor as he walked out of there. It didn’t take long before the choir was pushing to get out of the stage room as well. 

“Everyone, go upstairs and get changed and bring what’s necessary,” Malena commanded. “We’ll meet in the canteen in fifteen minutes precisely. Chop-chop!”

Everyone immediately started to push to get out of there. Except for Emma. She stayed behind and waited until it was just Malena left with her in the stage room. 

“Emma? Aren’t you gonna go and get ready?” Malena asked kindly. 

“Uhm, actually, I think I’d rather stay here if that’s okay,” Emma said and fidgeted with her fingers. “I don’t- I have a bit of a headache, so I think it’s better if I don’t run around in the city.”

“Oh,” Malena said, and a wrinkle appeared between her eyes. “Do you feel very unwell? I can send Belle along with Ruby and the group and stay here with you if you prefer.”

“No, that’s okay,” Emma said, making sure to make her voice sound soft and quiet and not quick and rude. “I think I’m just gonna have a light dinner and then go to bed. I can probably sleep it off.”

“If you’re sure...” Malena said and pursed her lips slightly. 

“I am,” Emma smiled. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. But I don’t wanna walk around in Paris while I have a headache. It would ruin the experience completely.”

“I suppose you’re right about that,” Malena laughed. “Alright. Dinner and then an early night. I suggest you treat yourself to a few extra chocolate bars. Good for the blood sugar.”

“I’ll do that,” Emma chuckled. Oh, she would treat herself to some extra chocolate bars, alright!

“Come,” Malena said kindly. “I’ll walk you back to the canteen.”

“Thank you, Malena.”

They left the stage room together, and Emma felt guilty for lying. Of course she did. Her mentor had been so nice to her, and in return Emma lied to her face. But she told herself that she had to. There was no other way. She couldn’t exactly tell her mentor the truth. Her only choice was to lie even though she felt bad about it. 

Fifteen minutes later, Emma waved goodbye to Lily and the rest of the choir. Ruby was surprised that Emma wasn’t coming along with them, but after a quick explanation from Malena, the older student didn’t ask anymore questions. 

With the canteen being half-empty, it was as easy as one-two-three for Emma to steal food. Chicken wings were wrapped in napkins and haphazardly stuffed into her backpack which she hadn’t even bothered to hide today. She “helped herself” to the chocolate bars. Six of them to be precise. Stuffed them into the backpack as well. Then she stole a red and shiny apple and rubbed it thoroughly in her sleeve before sending it the same way as the chicken wings and chocolate bars. And lastly, she nicked two bread rolls and stuffed them into the bag. Now she was ready to make her sneaky and secret retreat. Emma walked over to the door. She reached out to push it open, but as soon as she did so, she was suddenly sure she could hear something. Emma froze with one hand on the doorknob and could almost feel how her ears perked up like she was a dog. Was someone here? She glanced around in the canteen. No, she couldn’t see anyone. She wasn’t dumb enough to call “Hello?” because while the canteen was empty, the rest of the opera wasn’t, and she had no interest in drawing attention to herself. She could end up being caught red-handed because of it. It was just her imagination playing tricks on her again. The sound had just been a figment of her imagination and nothing more. 

Settling with that, Emma pushed the door open and walked through it. Now she was in a hurry. She jogged down the stairs and was slightly out of breath when she made it to the crypt where Christine’s picture was smiling down at her as always. 

“Hello, Christine,” Emma said softly as she looked up at the picture for a moment. That was a habit she had developed. Greeting Christine in an attempt to show her respect. They were connected somehow. They shared the same secret. 

As always, Emma pushed against the old mirror with her shoulder and grunted in sheer effort. She had gotten a bruise on her shoulder because of this. She had seen it in the mirror yesterday, and at first she had been confused, but then she had realized how she had gotten the bruise, and she had chuckled to herself because she considered to show the bruise to the Phantom the next time she said that   
Emma didn’t want to go through anything in order to get to the lair. The bruise on the side of Emma’s shoulder told a very different story. It showed how willing Emma actually was to “go through anything”. Very willing indeed. 

“Ha,” Emma said a tad breathlessly when the old mirror finally budged and slid to the side, revealing the hidden opening behind it. Emma wiggled through the opening, backpack and all. Pushing the mirror back in place was easily done. Now she was ready to embark on yet another walk through the cold, wet passageway. And she was actually prepared this time. Because tonight she was wearing boots. And a cardigan... 

After an uneventful walk through the passage, Emma once again found herself back in the lair. And found it quiet and seemingly empty. 

“Hello?” Emma called, fully knowing that the Phantom would either laugh at her or make some sort of “oh, so you’re back again”-comment. 

But on this night, there was no answer. 

“Hello?” Emma called again. “I brought food?”

Still no answer. Emma felt an odd twinge of disappointment. Was the Phantom not here tonight? It certainly seemed so. 

She walked a bit deeper into the lair. Still no Phantom. And her feather cloak was gone too. Which could only mean that the Phantom was in fact gone. But gone where? Where did she go when she.... left? 

Emma frowned in sheer concentration as she tried to solve that mystery, but she came up empty. She still knew nothing about the Phantom’s habits or whereabouts. She only knew that she was disappointed that she wasn’t here tonight. Very, very disappointed. But hey, it wasn’t all bad news. The rest of the choir and Malena had gone into the city. Meaning that Emma was free to stay and wait if that was what she wanted. And that just so happened to be EXACTLY what she wanted. She sat her backpack down on the ground and sat down next to it. She didn’t dare sitting in the Phantom’s “throne”.   
Suppose the Phantom came back and found her sitting there? Then she would get mad, Emma was certain of that. She didn’t wanna risk it. The ground was okay. But not very warm. The entire lair was actually pretty chilly. Emma rubbed her arms and was glad that she had been smart enough to put on a cardigan before coming here. How long would it be before the Phantom returned? And what would she say when she found Emma waiting for her? Emma sort of hoped that she would get happy. Just a little bit. Emma was bringing her food, after all. That was bound to make anyone happy, right? 

Emma hummed absentmindedly to herself in an attempt to pass the time. She was already growing impatient. She wasn’t used to the Phantom not being here, and she doubted she would be able to stop herself from asking where the Phantom had been when she came back. And she doubted that the Phantom would give her an answer. She never did. At least not an answer Emma could use. 

“Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo giusto, Li tutti vivono in pace e in onestà. Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere, Come le nuvole che volano, Pien' d'umanità in fondo all'anima,” Emma sang to herself, and even though she wasn’t singing very loud, her voice still echoed in the lair. The sound really was amazing down here. If there was one thing Emma wanted to hear, it was the Phantom singing. Like, really singing. Not just humming or singing in that quiet, ghostlike way she had demonstrated so far. But singing as loudly as she could. God, how amazing that would sound! Just thinking about it made   
Emma a bit dizzy, and she almost messed up the lyrics in “Nella Fantasia”. “Nella fantasia, esiste un vento caldo, Che soffia sulle città, come amico. Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere, Come le nuvole che volano.” As she sang, she absentmindedly looked around in the empty lair. “Nella fantasia esiste un vento caldo, Che soffia sulle città, come amico. Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere-“ 

Her song stopped abruptly and turned into a faint echo when she suddenly saw something. The thick, dark curtain that usually separated her from the Phantom wasn’t drawn tonight. Emma immediately a tickling curiosity creep up her spine. Right there was the place where the Phantom had been hiding. The room Emma had thought about so many times. She had laid awake for hours wondering what could possibly be behind that curtain....

Emma took a deep breath and got on her feet. 

Should she? 

No. No, of course she shouldn’t. That would be so wrong. 

But really, what could possibly be behind that curtain? 

Emma’s feet took a step towards the exposed room on their own accord. 

Why did the Phantom hide in that particular room? She had an entire lair to hide in. Why specifically chose that room? 

Emma’s feet took another step towards the room. 

She shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong. The Phantom could come back any minute. She would get in big, big trouble for doing this. 

Another step towards the room. Then one more. 

She had to know. She wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else before she knew what was behind that curtain. This opportunity would probably never present itself to her like this again. It would be foolish not to take it. So, so foolish. 

Three more steps towards the room. 

She just wanted a little look. That was all. It wasn’t like she would disturb anything in there. She just wanted to see what the room looked like. That was all, honestly. She didn’t mean any harm, of course she didn’t. 

Four steps towards the room.

And the Phantom would never know about it. She wasn’t even here right now. She couldn’t see if she wasn’t here. It wasn’t like she was all-knowing. She would never be able to find out that Emma had looked. As long as Emma didn’t touch anything. And why would she do that? Emma didn’t have the habit of touching other people’s stuff. Maybe she was a nosy nature, but she wasn’t that nosy. She always respected other people’s belongings. 

Emma wasn’t walking anymore. She was jogging towards the exposed room now. She couldn’t hold back. The curiosity was too strong. She HAD to know what was in there. 

Finally, she stood right where the curtain normally was. Emma took a deep breath and then finally, FINALLY looked inside the secret room. 

The first thing she saw in there was....a boat. Emma blinked. Yes, a boat. A real, genuine rowboat. No oars, but nevertheless a boat. Okay. Not exactly what she had expected to find here.

But a boat wasn’t the only thing in here. Emma spotted something white laying in the boat, and walking a bit closer, she could see that it was a kind of fabric. Light fabric. It didn’t take her long to figure out that she was in fact looking at a white wrap dress. A bit like the white choir dresses Emma wore, but definitely too thin. Could it be some sort of nightgown perhaps? Emma was so tempted to reach out and touch it, but she held back and studied the inside of the boat again. Soon she spotted another piece of fabric. A sort of sequined bodice. The pearls embellished above the chest shimmered faintly. 

Emma was confused. Who did this clothes belong to? The Phantom? No. Emma couldn’t really picture her in a white nightgown and embellished bodice, and the clothes looked too small for her anyway. 

The Phantom was tall. This clothes was clearly made for someone smaller. Or younger. Emma threw all caution overboard and stepped fully into the room. Her curiosity had officially won, and she had to know more about this. Coming closer, she could see that the inside of the boat had been padded with something soft. Something that made it appropriate for sleeping in. There was a pillow and a flower patterned blanket. Definitely made for sleeping in. That was fairly normal, Emma thought. Of course the Phantom would want a better bed than the thin blankets and pillow in the corner. But the nightgown and the embellished bodice Emma couldn’t get to make sense. And the clothes wasn’t the only odd artefact she found. There was also some sort of music box in the shape of a monkey holding two cymbals. Emma had never seen a music box like this one before, and she was just about to tug at the crank to see if it could play, when she noticed something else. A hairclip. Shaped as a red rose and with a few strands of long blonde hair still attached to the clasp. If there was one thing Emma knew, it was that the Phantom was NOT a blonde. Definitely not. Emma could vividly remember the woman’s long, black tresses. 

So who did the hairclip and clothes belong to? 

Emma sort of already knew. But she refused to entertain the thought. At least until she spotted something. Something that was partially hidden under the flower-patterned blanket in the boat. Something that Emma knew she shouldn’t be touching. She had in fact made a vow to herself about not touching anything, but once again the curiosity got the best of her, and she quickly crouched down in front of the boat so she could pull the little book out. It was by no means a large book, but quite thick. Flower-patterned and girlish. Exactly as innocent as a young girls diary could be. Emma had no business touching this book, she knew that. But she opened it anyway. And wasn’t at all surprised by what she found written on the first page. “If found, please return to Christine Daaé”. Of course this book- this DIARY- belonged to Christine. Emma actually found it a bit shocking that she wasn’t more surprised by this. She flipped one page forward and squinted in the faint light so she could read: 

“September 21st, 2016. 

My father died tonight. God, I can’t believe that I’m even writing this. I don’t want to, because then it’ll become even more true. I don’t want it to be true! He can’t be gone! I don’t want him to be gone! What is going to happen to me now? Dad was all I had. My whole world and now he’s gone. As I’m writing this, Malena is on her way to me. That was what dad arranged before he died. That once it had happened, I should go with Malena to Paris. To the opera. What am I supposed to do there? How am I supposed to keep on living knowing that my father is gone?! I don’t want to. I just don’t want to.”

Emma swallowed something. Poor Christine. Poor, poor, Christine! This was tragic. She shouldn’t be reading this. But somehow the page seemed to flip itself, and Emma couldn’t resist to keep reading:

“September 23rd, 2016.

I’m in Paris. At the Opera. I’ve been dumped in a room with a mirror that takes most of the space. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I just want to go home. 

September 25th, 2016. 

Why am I here? I can’t sing. Malena formally enrolled me in the choir today. I’ll be filling up some random unoccupied space in the back row, but for what purpose? To stand there and mime?!

September 26th, 2016.

I tried to sing along today. I shouldn’t have, it went awful. Everyone was staring at me, and a few of the others were even laughing. Malena told them to shut up, but I heard them anyway. I don’t want to be a member of this stupid choir. I don’t want to sing. I just want to be left alone. Why can’t anyone understand that?!”

Emma’s heart was positively aching for Christine, and her conscience was pitch black when she flipped a few pages forward in the diary. 

September 30th, 2016.

“Rusty old hinge”. I heard someone whisper that when I walked past them today. “Christine Daaé sounds like a rusty old hinge”. The girls friend was laughing. Ruby heard it too, and she yelled at the girl and told them that she would report them to Mme. Carlotta. I asked her not to. I don’t want any trouble. And it’s true. I do sound like a rusty old hinge when I sing. This sounds awful, but sometimes I wish that I wasn’t Gustave Daaé’s daughter. Because everyone assumes that I have some sort of musical gift just because I’m his daughter. Well, I don’t. I can’t sing like the others here. And I can’t play an instrument like dad. I miss him. Every single day I think about him. I come down to the crypt to light a candle for him, but I don’t think it helps anything, to be honest. Maybe I should try and stop. 

October 16th, 2016.

I haven’t written in a long, long time. I’ve actually been busy. Ruby and Belle have asked me to come hang out with them almost every single night. We talk and laugh and watch stupid movies together. It’s actually been real nice. I’m starting to think that they’re my friends. Singing-vise, not much is happening. I still sound terrible when I try to sing, so I mostly just mime and let the others do the singing. I’m not really a member of the choir when doing that, but it’s better than sounding like a rusty old hinge. 

October 31st, 2016.

Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this on Halloween night, but I have to write it down somewhere. Otherwise I’ll keep thinking about it and maybe add or remove something untrue from the events. I’ve felt something in my room. It sounds completely ridiculous, but it’s true. It’s just an inkling. Every night when I go to bed and switch off the lights, I get the feeling that there’s someone looking at me. Of course there’s no one in the room, and it doesn’t really scare me. It doesn’t feel like it’s something bad. It actually feels pretty....soothing.’

Emma’s interest was definitely piqued now. This was more information that she had ever gotten since learning about the Phantom of the opera. And to think that the answer had been lying and waiting for her in a little flower patterned book that had been in this lair all along. It was almost a bit laughable, really. 

November 5th, 2016.

I’ve been paying really good attention lately. To the “thing” happening in my room, I mean. And I was right. There’s definitely something going on. Whenever I’ve switched the lights out, after approximatively twenty minutes, I can hear something. Rustling. Shuffling. I’ve been trying to figure out where it comes from, but I can’t quite determine it. But I do know that it’s definitely too big to be a mouse. Or another animal for that matter. I’ve never heard of any animals who makes that sound. But I’ll keep paying attention. As weird as this sounds (I’d only ever admit this to my diary), it actually helps me to have something else to think about. I’ve been thinking less about my dad and more about what’s going on in my room. I’m not so sure it’s healthy, but now I wanna know what’s making that noise!’

Emma licked her lips. This sounded oh, so familiar. Christine Daaé had been awfully similar to her. The same kind of curiosity that had driven Christine was now driving Emma. 

November 10th, 2016.

It’s the mirror!! The sound is coming from behind my mirror!! I was running a bit late this morning. I was in the bathroom, rushing to get ready when I suddenly hear this rustling sound coming from behind the mirror! Obviously, I ran in there and called to see if someone would answer, but no one did. I’m writing “no one” because I’m a hundred percent certain it was a human I heard. The breathing was definitely human. A human! Behind the mirror! How the fuck is that even possible?! Maybe I’m going crazy or something. Or maybe someone is messing with me. But how would they even do that? No, for reals, I gotta find out what’s going on here!

November 20th, 2016.

I’ve been neglecting my diary again, but I’m not gonna apologize for that. That would be ridiculous, apologizing to a book. So instead I’m going to write about what happened to me today. I can barely believe it. To be honest, I haven’t been feeling very well lately. Well, I was. For a few weeks. And then my mood just dropped. I started to think a lot about my dad again. I remembered that I was all alone. And the teasing has sort of started again. Today someone said “rusty old hinge” to me again. Of course Ruby went off on them, but I didn’t really care. I have days where I don’t care. Anyway, I didn’t want any dinner so instead I just went back to my room. I was feeling really shitty, so I was actually crying, which is embarrassing, but everything was just sorta overwhelming for a moment and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Anyway, as I’m half laying on my bed and crying, I suddenly hear this voice. A woman’s voice. She said my name. Which should probably have freaked me out, but it didn’t. And then she started singing. To me. I don’t know the song, it sounded like some kind of lullaby, but her voice... I’m not sure I can even describe it. It was ethereal. Unearthly. And yet so completely human. But it seems ridiculous to assume that the owner of such a beautiful voice even can be human. She sounded like. Fuck, she sounded like some kind of angel. An angel of music. And I just felt... good. She calmed me. Her singing made me feel like everything was less hopeless. Like things could actually be good again. When she was done singing, I thanked her. Then I asked her who she was. And where she was. But she didn’t answer me. She just.... vanished. But where to? And where did she even come from in the first place? I have to know. I have to hear her sing again. I have to find out who this angel of music truly is.’ 

Emma’s heart was beating faster and faster in her chest. God, this little book was an absolute goldmine! It was information! Actual information. She turned another page. She just had to read more. She had to find out more about Christine and her search for the “Angel of music”.

“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?!”

Emma yelped and spun around. But before she could even blink, the Phantom was coming charging right towards her in a flurry of dark locks and swishing skirts. Emma instinctively held up her hands up to shield her face from the woman’s unbridled anger. Her eyes were black and terrifying against the white mask covering one half of her face, and her voice boomed through the lair. Now she was literally in Emma's face. Their noses were almost touching.

Emma instinctively backed away and cringed as though she had been physically hurt. 

“Damn you!” the Phantom cursed, voice more powerful than ever, and hands quick as she ripped the diary from Emma’s hands and pressed it against her chest. “You little prying Pandora! You little demon! You think you have the right to snoop around in here?! Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper! Do that again and you’ll live to regret it!” she tossed the diary back in the boat. Her long fingers curled into claws as she grasped at Emma’s shoulders like she was about to either shake or push her onto the floor. "Damn you! Curse you...."

Emma’s chin had started wobbling the moment the Phantom had started yelling at her. She couldn’t help it. It was her first impulse when people yelled at her. Her voice was thick and her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she said: “please don’t h-hurt m-me.”

The Phantom’s fingers uncurled and then dropped from her shoulders. Her eyes were still dark and angry as she looked at Emma, but at least she had dropped her hands. “Hurt you,” she hissed, voice cold as ice. “You fear the consequences when you’re the one who wronged me?! Make no mistake, little girl, I’m in my full right to hurt you if that’s what I want. Not get. Out. Of. Here!”

Emma stumbled backwards out of the previously hidden room. “I... I’m s-sor-“

“I said, get out!” the Phantom yelled as turned to Emma, clearly trying to tell her that she would chase her out if she didn’t. “Get out, get out, get out, and leave me the fuck alone!”

Emma turned around and legged it out of the cave. She didn’t dare to stay for another second. She didn’t dare trying to apologize again. Right now, running seemed like her best bet, and so she did. With her pulse hammering in her ears, she stormed through the underground passage, tripping and stumbling and nearly taking the wrong way to the underground lake as she went. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and it felt like it could splinter against her ribcage at any moment. Her vision was completely blurred behind her glasses, and she could still hear the Phantom yelling, could still see her face twisted with anger as she yelled in her face.

Her breath came out in sobs, and when she reached the mirror in the crypt, she frantically banged on its side to get it to open for her. She was so afraid that the Phantom was gonna come for her, she barely stayed long enough to close the mirror behind her when she left the crypt. She sprinted all the way back to her room and thankfully, she met no one on her way. She slammed the door to her room shut and even locked the door even though she doubted that would keep the Phantom out if she really decided to come after her. 

Emma collapsed on her bed. Bursted into tears. Her mind was a complete mess, and the first and completely unrelated coherent thought popping up was that she had forgotten her bag in the Phantom’s lair....

To Be Continued............


	17. Angel, My Soul Was Weak, Forgive Me

Emma felt like she was in some sort of trance or daze as she mechanically changed out of her cardigan and dress and into her pajamas. She brushed her teeth and held the toothbrush with hands that were still trembling slightly, and when she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror to remove her makeup, her green eyes looked way too big for her face. Big and scared. As soon as the makeup had been removed, Emma put on her glasses again and turned her back on her reflection. She zombie-walked back to bed and hopped up. Holding no illusions when it came to making herself comfortable tonight. She grabbed a book from her little shelf. Any book. She didn’t care which one. She wasn’t paying attention to the title.   
She flipped it open and looked down at the written words. But she wasn’t reading anything. She couldn’t. Because as much as she pretended that this was just any normal night where she winded down before bedtime, it wasn’t. She could still feel her pulse all the way in her brain. Her heart was still beating with ten thousand billion beats per second. Her breathing felt constricted and her skin was prickling. As were her eyes. 

Emma Swan was afraid. 

The Phantom’s voice was still echoing in her ear. She had been like a panther. A wild animal ready to pounce. Her hands had been claws digging into Emma’s shoulders. Emma had inspected her skin in the bathroom mirror, and there had been red marks after the Phantom’s fingers. Her face had been a grimace of unbridled anger as she yelled in Emma’s face. Called her a “little prying Pandora” and a “little viper”. Emma had never been called anything like that before. Nor had she been yelled at like that. Of course she had cried. Was there even another reaction when one was being yelled in the face? 

Emma was selfish enough to feel sorry for herself for a moment as she sat in her bed and fake turned the pages in the book she wasn’t reading. But it didn’t take long before she got over the “poor me”-state, and started to feel other things. Embarrassment. Instead of bursting into tears and sprinting out of the lair, she should have tried to apologize to the Phantom. 

Guilt. Curtain or no curtain, she’d had absolutely no business wandering into that room. It was so obviously the Phantom’s domain, her private room, and Emma shouldn’t have violated her privacy like she had. And then there was the diary... Emma had even less business reading Christine Daaé’s diary. That was private. Not for Emma’s eyes to see, and she cursed herself for her stupidity and curiosity. She and the Phantom had slowly but steadily started a sort of friendship, and now Emma had ruined it because she just had to go and stick her nose where it didn’t belong. No wonder the Phantom had gotten angry. No wonder she had yelled. And instead of apologizing sincerely to her, Emma bursted out crying and taken off. Like the stupid, frightened little girl she was. 

Emma threw the book against the nearest wall. She could do that. She was practically alone in the dormitory. God, she wished she hadn’t started to poke around in the Phantom’s business. And Christine’s. 

Christine’s diary. Christine’s clothes. Christine’s hairclip. There had been so many of Christine’s things in that room, and Emma was starting to wonder whether it actually WAS Christine’s room. Had she...   
Had she been living there? The thought seemed odd, but why had there been so many of her things? The clothes and the hairclip suggested that the room had been a more permanent place for her to stay. 

Emma rubbed her temples and thought of what Christine had written about in the diary. How her father had died, and she had travelled the long way from Sweden to Paris. How alone she had felt. How she had sensed a presence when she was in her room or in the crypt. How she had become curious to find out more. How she had found this “presence” to be quite soothing. How everyone had expected her to be good at singing or playing an instrument just because she was Gustave Daaé’s daughter. How the other students had called her a “rusty old hinge” bullied her because she couldn’t sing. How she had been upset, and then heard something. The Phantom of the Opera. The Angel of Music. She had... She had treated Christine with kindness and talked gently to her when she had cried. And Christine hadn’t been afraid. She had described the Phantom’s voice as “unearthly”. Angelic. 

As guilty as Emma felt over having stuck her nose in the Phantom and Christine’s business, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed that she hadn’t gotten the chance to read some more. What had happened next? Had Christine found the Phantom? Or had the Phantom showed herself to Christine? Or had she perhaps used the same trick with the half-closed mirror? It was maddening, not knowing what had happened next. Emma silently cursed herself. Maybe if she hadn’t been such a “little prying pandora”, the Phantom would have told her herself. Perhaps she would have shared the whole story with her. 

But now there was no chance of that happening. Because Emma had ruined the whole thing. She had let her curiosity win and she felt so horribly guilty about it. The Phantom, despite her snark and presumed boredom, had actually been quite kind to her. Not the most talkative person in the world, but when she finally DID open her mouth, the things she said were always interesting. And she had even helped Emma improving her singing technique. And how had Emma repaid her? By snooping around in her private rooms. She had betrayed her trust completely the moment she had walked into that room.   
Emma’s throat constricted and her eyes started prickling again. But this time it was for very different reasons. It felt like the guilt was burning its way up her throat and leaking from her eyes. How was she ever going to make this right again? The Phantom would never let her into her lair again, Emma was sure of that. 

She wasn’t quite sure for how long she remained in the same frozen position with the book in her lap on her bed, but at some point, she heard happy chitchat and laughing from the hallway, and she almost fell out of bed. The rest of the choir was back from the city. Meaning that it probably wasn’t as late as she had thought. She sat silent and listened as Ruby and Belle and Lily and the rest of the choir ran around in the dormitory. Malena was barking orders at them. Instructing everyone to go to bed. The lights would be switched off in ten minutes, she said. Of course, even more hustle and bustle followed that statement. It would appear that everyone had a hard time getting ready to go to sleep. Maybe being in the city had done something to them. 

But eventually, Emma heard the last room door slam shut, and then everything went quiet. Well sort of. She could still hear the Phantom yelling in her head. ‘Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon! You think you have the right to snoop around in here?! Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper! Do that again and you’ll live to regret it!’. Harsh words, no doubt about that. Venomous words that had been spewed at Emma like poison. Words that had made Emma cry. Words that had been said in anger. But now, as Emma had calmed down some and was able to think past the initial shock and terror, she could see that there also had been something else besides anger in the Phantom’s eyes. Sadness. Yes. Emma reading Christine’s diary had made the Phantom sad. Emma walking into that room had made the Phantom sad. Everything had been so untouched in the room. The nightgown and bodice on the boat-bed. The rose hairclip. Everything had looked a bit dusty. The half-hidden diary too. As though it hadn’t been touched for a long time. Years. And maybe there was a point to that. Maybe the Phantom never touched Christine’s things. They had been friends. Emma was certain of that now. The Phantom and Christine had been friends. And Emma had just waltzed into the room and gone through Christine’s things like a..... Well, like she was some little prying pandora. Exactly like the Phantom had said.   
Emma’s stomach twisted, and she got a terrible, bitter taste in her mouth. The taste of guilt. How could she have done this to a woman who had actually been kind to her in her own, peculiar way? How could she have flushed that down the toilet just to satisfy her curiosity? God, she was so stupid! Before her blunder, she had thought- hoped- that she and the Phantom could become friends. And it had been less about gaining the Phantom’s trust because she wanted to know what happened to Christine, and more about just because Emma wanted to make friends with the mysterious, masked woman who lived underground. Her interest had been genuine. Her desire to become friends with the Phantom of the Opera hadn’t been about ulterior motives. But after tonight, the Phantom would obviously think that it had. That Emma had merely been waiting for an opportunity to snoop around. 

Emma felt oddly close to tears again. This wasn’t something that could be fixed. Tomorrow night she would discover that the entrance behind the mirror in the crypt had been blocked, and that would be the end of it. She would never see the Phantom again, and for whatever reason, the thought of that filled her with a terrible sadness. And she would be in trouble in other ways too. Her bag, which contained all her notes and things was still in the underground lair. She had forgotten it in her hurry to get away from the Phantom’s anger. In her eagerness to avoid facing her own guilt. How was she supposed to explain the disappearance of her notes? Of her schoolbooks? She couldn’t just say that she had lost the entire bag. No one was gonna believe that. If she said that she had dropped the bag somewhere, the entire dormitory would think that she was an idiot.

Emma sighed. She WAS an idiot. A great big idiot. If only she had stayed instead of running. If only she had been brave enough to remain rooted to the spot when the Phantom chased her out of the lair. 

Maybe she could have apologized then. Apologized for her behavior, not excused it. Because there wasn’t an excuse for what she had done. The Phantom was the one who had welcomed Emma into her home, and Emma had repaid her by rifling through things she had no business rifling through. She ran a hand through her hair. If only she hadn’t been so stupid. If she had ignored that the curtain hadn’t been drawn, this would never have happened. She wouldn’t have been chased out of the lair and felt so terrible. Instead she would have gone to bed with a smile on her lips and whatever song the Phantom had been singing, on replay in her mind. Tomorrow morning she would have woken upbeat and excited and looking forward to yet another meeting with the Phantom come evening. And now all of that was ruined because she had mistaken herself for some great detective. Emma scoffed. She was no detective. She was just a dumb little girl who couldn’t keep her stupid curiosity at bay. What had she even hoped to achieve by going through that diary? It wasn’t like Christine Daaé could write from beyond the grave. 

Emma glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It was getting quite late now. Rehearsal started early tomorrow, and somehow, she had to be in the mood for that. God, how was she even supposed to concentrate on singing tomorrow? How was she supposed to make her voice soar when she felt flatter than ever? Maybe that would be the price for what she had done. Not being able to sing. 

No, Emma thought to herself. That wasn’t the price for what she had done. The price was knowing that she had lost that rush that overwhelmed her every time she stepped into the Phantom’s lair. The way her heart swelled with pride when she heard herself sing in the lair. And the special feeling settling in her stomach whenever the Phantom sang her out of the lair. That was what she had lost. That was the price for her stupidity.

It was late. She had to stop sitting here in the darkness. It wouldn’t do any good that she was sleep deprived when she woke up tomorrow morning. With much trouble, Emma unfolded her stiff limbs and laboriously slid under the covers. Her bed felt cold, and the duvet she pulled over herself felt oddly suffocating. She was so angry with herself. Angry and disappointed that she had not been able to resist temptation. But she wasn’t afraid of the Phantom anymore. In fact Emma thought that the Phantom’s reaction had been a perfectly reasonable one. Because she was right, Emma had absolutely no business snooping around. The blonde rolled onto her back and stared up at the dark ceiling. She wasn’t afraid that the Phantom would come to her room and “finish the job”. She had been angry, yes, but she had let go the moment Emma had said ‘please don’t hurt me’. She could have continued. She could have shaken or maybe even pushed Emma onto the hard stone floor, but she hadn’t. Instead she had let her go.   
That, Emma thought to herself, had to say something about the Phantom’s character. And the person Christine had written about in her diary, hadn’t exactly been described as a dangerous person. She had been described as gentle and kind. Not exactly someone who was capable of harming someone. Emma hadn’t been harmed tonight. Scared, yes indeed, and perhaps there were a few scrapes on her shoulders, but she had not been harmed by the Phantom. Not really. 

Emma huffed in the darkness. She was getting frustrated with herself now. Her thoughts were spinning and spinning and sooner rather than later, she would start to feel a little crazy. That was how this thing always went. She had to use the old method. Deep breath in through her nose. Hold it for a beat. And then exhale through her mouth. Again. In through her nose. And out through her mouth. Only focus on the way her lungs filled with air, how her chest rose and fell steadily with each breath she took. In through her nose and out through her mouth. It wasn’t that hard, really, but it was very effective. Emma’s mom was the one who had taught her this method when she was younger. And as Emma lay there in her bed and did her best to focus on her breathing, she thought about her loving parents back in Maine. She hadn’t been very good at calling them lately. Maybe she would do that tomorrow. Call her parents and have a proper chat with them. It was hardly their fault that it made her feel like a little girl whenever she was talking to them. They had a certain way of speaking to her which had started to irritated her more and more lately. Because she wasn’t a little girl any longer. 

Emma banished the annoyance from her mind. Now wasn’t the time to feel irritated. It was time to focus on how her body was growing heavier and heavier. Heavier and heavier, heavier and heavier....

The alarm clock on Emma’s nightstand showed 03:00 when she found herself awakening. Just like that. At first, Emma wasn’t quite sure why she was awake this late. She hadn’t been dreaming. She hadn’t even had a nightmare or anything. This seemed to come a bit out of nowhere. At least that was what she first thought. But then she heard something. A slight shuffling. Emma sat up in bed and strained her ears. The shuffling sound came from behind the mirror. There was no doubt about that. Emma waited with her heart pounding in her chest and sweaty palms. Was the Phantom coming into her room? To give Emma another taste of her anger? Maybe the Phantom had just waited for it to get late enough. Maybe she was hoping to surprise Emma in her sleep. Emma was feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement. For the most, she wanted the Phantom to come to her room so she could apologize. 

It felt like her heart was going to shatter against her ribs when she saw the old mirror being pushed to the side from the inside. Any moment now.... She mentally prepared herself to be faced with an angry Phantom yet again. She wouldn’t cry or be afraid this time. Instead she would apologize. Like she should have the moment the Phantom caught her with the diary. Her anxiety was almost through the roof as she waited to see the Phantom’s long fingers wrap around the mirror and push it fully aside. Then the rest of her would follow suit and come through the mirror. Emma’s palms were completely clammy.

But no angry Phantom bursted through the mirror. Instead Emma watched with some confusion as her schoolbag suddenly was shoved through the mirror. A moment later the book the Phantom had borrowed from her followed suit. Emma honestly couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The Phantom was returning her things. Before she had a chance to fully process that unexpected development, the mirror moved again. It was being pushed back in place. In a few seconds, the tiny opening would be covered again. Emma jumped out of bed and almost tumbled over to the mirror. “Wait!” she pleaded. 

“Please wait!”

It was almost a bit comedic, the way the mirror stopped moving all the sudden and left a tiny crack open for Emma to talk through. A teeny, tiny crack. Emma was certain she could hear the Phantom’s breathing on the other side of the mirror, and for a moment, she imagined herself shoving the mirror aside and bursting through the opening. But then she got a hold of herself. She didn’t try to wiggle her fingers into the crack and push the mirror open. She just talked. “I’m s-sorry!” she said, stutteringly, but nevertheless sincerely. “Really, I am so, so sorry! You’re right, I had no right to go through your stuff. Or go into that room in the first place! I don’t... I don’t have any excuses for doing it. I was just being stupid and curious, but I promise I won’t ever do something like that again!” she gulped for air after having rambled for such a long time. The mirror moved again. Slowly, it was pushed back to cover the crack. 

“Please don’t go!” Emma begged. “Please! I’m sorry! I am so, so sorry for what I did! I won’t ever touch your stuff again. Or.... Or Christine’s.” the word “Christine” came out as a mere whisper, and Emma struggled to go on. “I’m sorry!” she whispered. She wasn’t sure what else she could say. The two words sounded hollow the more she said them, but how else could she apologize? What other words were there to say? How else could she express how sorry she was? She heard the rustling sound again, and now she realized that it was the sound of the Phantom’s dress. Something scraping across the floor behind the mirror. Emma didn’t need to think about what that sound was. It was undoubtedly something being pushed in front of the back of the mirror. A sort of blockage that would prevent Emma from going through the opening. Once again, Emma felt a sting of panic. But before she could get the chance to shout ‘wait!’, she heard footsteps. Footsteps walking away from the mirror. 

“Wait!” she called. “Please wait!”.

But it was too late. The footsteps became fainter and fainter, and then they disappeared all together. “No!” Emma murmured and felt tempted to bang her fists against the mirror. This couldn’t be the end. 

Emma didn’t want it to be the end. The thought of losing the brief connection she’d had with the Phantom of the Opera made her feel sadder than she ever could have imagined. Going to the Phantom’s lair had become far more important than she ever could have imagined, and now she had ruined it. She had ruined everything. The Phantom was gone, and the mirror was blocked. The mirror in the crypt would undoubtedly be too. Emma turned her back on the mirror and looked at her schoolbag. She crouched down and unzipped it. Everything was still there. Her sheets of music and pencils and forgotten hair ties and everything. At the bottom of the bag, she found the paper the chocolate bars had been wrapped in. And the other food was gone as well. So the Phantom had eaten it. That was a good thing,   
Emma supposed. She took the book and put it back on the shelf where she had taken it from. Her intention had been to bring the Phantom a different book when she was done with this one, but now there would be none of that anymore. She wasn’t gonna see the Phantom again. Emma’s stomach felt heavy. Full of ice chips. But there was really nothing she could do. 

Emma dragged her unwilling body away from the mirror and back to bed. She pulled the covers up to her ears and closed her eyes. But she had little to no hope about falling asleep now. She couldn’t stop thinking about what the Phantom was doing right now. Was she furious? Yes, she would be. She had only brought Emma’s bag and book back so Emma would have no excuses to try and get back to the lair.......

Naturally, Emma felt completely squashed when her alarm ringed the next morning. Completely flat. She had to haul herself out of bed and force her unwilling body into the bathroom. The usual shower did absolutely nothing to lessen the squashed feeling. She was a zombie standing there under the warm spray of water. She zoned out multiple times and only became aware when the water turned cold. 

She dried her hair and tied it back in a braid. Left the bathroom and put on her white chorus dress and her glasses. Next, she put on her little white ballerina shoes, and while she did that, she shot glances at her boots which were standing by the bed where she had left them last night. Emma noted that there was a large stain on the carpet. That was because she had run through the water in the underground tunnel last night. Emma shivered a little when she remembered how she almost had made the wrong turn. She could have ended in the lake. She shook her head and stopped thinking about that. Instead she finished putting on her shoes and grabbed the grey dress she had worn last night. The bottom of it was stained from when the water and dirt had splashed. She brought it into the bathroom with her where she attempted to clean off the stains. She wasn’t doing a very good job, but she figured that if she left the dress to soak in the sink for a couple of hours, the stains would probably disappear. 

Emma grabbed her bag and left her room. In the hallway, she quickly ran into Lily who was smiling at her. “’Morning, Em.”

“Good morning,” Emma greeted and did her best to smile. “Did you have a good time in the city last night?”

“Oh yes, it was amazing!” Lily said excitedly. “You should have gone with us!”

“I just wasn’t feeling it,” Emma replied but thought to herself that yes, she absolutely should have. If only she had done that. Or if only she had settled for just leaving the food in the lair and then left again. Had she done that, neither of the following events would have happened. She wouldn’t have read that diary, and the Phantom wouldn’t have chased her out of the lair. But of course she hadn’t been able to resist temptation. Of course she had been a right “Pippin” who just had to look. 

“So, what were you guys doing in the city?” Emma asked after having reminded herself that she was in fact in the middle of a conversation with Lily. 

Lily eagerly told her all about the restaurant they’d had dinner at, and how they had walked around in Paris and window shopped. 

“That sounds good,” Emma said distractedly. Oh, how she wished that she had gone with them. 

“You have to come with us the next time!” Lily insisted and took Emma’s arm. 

“Of course,” Emma smiled. “Are you ready to rehearse?”

“I guess so,” Lily shrugged. “I mean, I would have preferred to be in the city, but...”

Emma chuckled. “Maybe your mom will let us go there again soon.”

“I hope so,” Lily sighed and rolled her eyes. “But I think she only did it because she was in a good mood. She always gets so cheerful whenever Mr. Gold praises the choir.”

Emma laughed, half-certain that she was being genuine. “It was pretty nerve wracking having him there while we were singing. At least I thought so.” 

“He can be a bit intimidating,” Lily agreed with a grin. “But we can’t ever tell him that ‘cause he’s the owner of this place.”

“That’s true,” Emma chuckled. “And I’m sure he doesn’t mean to come across as intimidating.”

“He just can’t help it. It’s the suits. And the hair,” Lily said, laughter bubbling in her throat. 

“And probably the cane,” Emma added. She felt a little guilty for making fun of the owner of the Opera Garnier, but right now that was the only thing that could sort of make her forget about the fiasco from last night, so she willingly grabbed onto it with both hands. It felt good to laugh with her friend. 

“But in all seriousness, I’m glad he appreciates the choir,” Emma said, once done laughing. 

“Mmm,” Lily replied. “And guess what?”

“What?” Emma chuckled. 

“I heard mom talk about a masquerade ball!” the brunette said excitedly. 

“A masquerade ball?” Emma echoed. “That sounds fun. When?” 

“She didn’t say, but I’m guessing before the big concert. To sort of kick things off, I think. It’s gonna be so awesome! A long time ago, masquerade ball was actually a big deal here. It was a part of starting the season. Went out of style a long time ago, so it’s really awesome that Mr. Gold decided to bring it back!” 

“That sounds really cool,” Emma said. Undoubtedly wonderful, but most likely noisy too. Every room would be packed with people. Emma wasn’t so sure she wanted to attend such a thing for too long. Too noisy. Too many people. Too much of everything, really. It definitely didn’t sound like something that was right up her street. But she didn’t tell Lily that. She didn’t want to be a “party pooper”. 

They made it into the canteen where it didn’t take long before they were “flagged down” by Anna and Killian who were sitting together at a nearby table. Emma and Lily headed over to them, and together all four of them went up to get some food. Emma did her best to participate in the conversation, but the only thing she could think about was how giddy she had felt last night when she had walked around in the empty canteen and nicking food. How triumphant she had been when she could disappear through the door without feeling nervous about being seen by anyone. 

Emma didn’t eat much for breakfast. 

Emma felt as though her voice was flatter than ever when she sang that morning. But it didn’t seem like anyone noticed it. Everyone’s attention was mostly on Ruby. She was the star, after all. And as Malena instructed the older student in how to sing a particularly difficult piece, Emma could easily glance around in the stage room. But she couldn’t see anything, and for whatever reason she had a strong feeling that the Phantom wasn’t here. And why would she? 

Emma tried to hold back a sigh. Something she had been doing for most of the morning. Hold back sighs, smile and pretend to be engaged in singing. But it was so difficult when all she could think about was how angry the Phantom had been with her last night. How she had shouted. Emma wished that she had done a better job at apologizing when the Phantom returned her bag and book to her late last night. Maybe she could have said something that would have made the Phantom stay for a little longer. She could have come up with something far better than what she had said last night. Somewhere during the rehearsal Emma decided that she had sounded way too insincere last night. Her apology had been too half-hearted. 

Everything was her fault. 

But at least she wasn’t the only one who appeared to be unenthusiastic. So did the rest of the choir. Everyone was talking about last nights journey to the city, and Malena threatened to kick everyone out of the opera. Which everyone laughed at because that was Malena’s go-to line when the choir was being “difficult”. Good old ‘you’re all fired’-joke. Emma did her best to laugh at the joke along with everyone else, but the laughter sounded hollow in her ears, and she wondered when and how the Phantom of the Opera had managed to affect her this much. It was a bit puzzling, really. Emma hadn’t even seen her. The Phantom had always been hiding behind the curtain, and she had been full of snark and half-sarcastic comments. None of that should have been appealing. But she had also been very good to Emma. In her own, peculiar way. She had stopped sending Emma on her way as soon as she had given her the food. Often, Emma had brought an extra apple for herself, and she had been eating that on one side of the curtain while the Phantom had been on the other side. Sometimes the Phantom had commented on the quality of the apple. She was very picky when it came to apples. Emma was going to miss that. She was going to miss all of it. The snark, the sarcasm, the little questions about her lessons, and the singing advises. For the millionth time, she wished that she had been smart enough to keep her nose to herself instead of trying to play “the little detective”. Because she wasn’t a detective. She was a lonely girl who had appreciated the company of another. She had started to get more interested in the Phantom-of-the-opera-the-person rather than the Phantom-of-the-opera-the-mystery, and now she would never get the chance to get to know her better. And the thought of that really hurt. 

It became lunch time, and after that, time for homework. Emma busied herself and did her best to distract herself. And it actually worked pretty well. The homework was difficult. Which she was sort of grateful for afterwards. Because it meant that she had been thinking about that and that alone. When she was done with her homework, she called her parents. Her mom put the phone on speaker so her dad could be a part of the conversation too, and it didn’t take long before he pointed out that Emma “sounded a bit down in the dumps”. Emma of course denied that and said that she was just a bit busy. 

Her parents bought that explanation and both of them told her how much they were looking forward to the concert happening in some months, and her dad hinted that they were going to come and visit her soon. Emma truthfully said that she would love that. Once she had hung up, she felt a teensy bit lighter. Talking to her parents always helped no matter what. Of course she couldn’t tell them the real reason why she was “down in the dumps”, but still, talking to them made her feel as thought it wasn’t THAT bad. That was the effect her parents had on her. 

After having done homework, there was a free period before the next rehearsal would take place. Emma spend that free period in Lily’s room where they talked and laughed and messed around with watching funny videos on Lily’s phone. Emma wasn’t thinking about anything except for hanging out with her friend. No Phantoms was invading her mind while she hung out with Lily, and Emma thought to herself that maybe she could actually forget what had happened last night. Maybe this was the first step towards forgetting The Phantom of the Opera. This was normal. This was what regular choir members did when there was a free period. They hung out with their friends. They didn’t sneak down to underground lairs. Maybe this was how things was supposed to be, really. Maybe she could go back to just being Emma Swan, the shy singer who just came here to a part of the ensemble. A girl with no secrets whatsoever. She and Lily really did have a great time together. 

When the free period was over, Emma felt a bit out of breath after having laughed so hard. She and Lily giggled all the way to the stage room, and by the time they were supposed to start singing again, neither one of them were able to stay serious for long. Malena had to scold them a little bit, but for once, Emma didn’t mind, and the hardest task she had to perform that afternoon, was avoiding to make eye contact with Lily. Which was mighty hard because Lily was standing right next to her, and every so often, Emma would sense that her shoulders were shaking, and that of course would set her off as well. Malena clicked her tongue and called them “crazy kids”. Which produced another laughing fit. From the entire choir. 

“I’m putting you all out on the street tonight,” Malena said simply. 

“Right. Of course you are, mom,” Lily said flatly. 

And then everyone laughed again. 

That night, Emma had dinner with Lily and Belle and Ruby. All three of them talked and laughed while eating, and Emma did her utmost to remember that she didn’t have to stuff food into her bag tonight. 

She didn’t have to sneak around. She could just sit with her friends and eat like any normal girl. She tried to convince herself that it was nice. That this was what she wanted. But the nagging sensation in the back of her head kept bothering her. The quiet but persistent urge to stuff some food down her bag and then slip through the door and disappear underground. There would be none of that tonight, she reminded herself. There would be none of that at all. All of that was done. Finished. Over with. And now she was clearly going through some weird process where she had to accept it. The only thing   
Emma could compare it to, was a grief process. But that was ridiculous. Nobody had died. 

After dinner, it was quickly decided that they would hang out in Ruby’s room. Emma grabbed an extra apple and stuffed it in her bag, so she had a snack for later. She dumped the bag in her room and then joined Ruby and Belle and Lily. Tonight there was no bottle of alcohol passed around or ghost stories. Instead there was extremely bad jokes all of them laughed at, and extra chocolate which Lily had nicked in the canteen. 

“Just don’t tell anyone,” she said as she passed the chocolate around. “Mom’s a real hawk when it comes to spotting these things.”

Emma bit her tongue when she accepted her chocolate bar. She had gotten away with this for eight days, and Malena hadn’t noticed a thing. Maybe that wasn’t something to feel proud of, but Emma still kind of did, though. 

“No one will say a thing,” Belle assured with a snicker.

“How did you even manage to get away with it?” Ruby asked. Her eyebrows were raised, and she looked quite impressed. 

Lily shrugged. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I guess I just saw an opportunity and went for it. But I’ll never do it again, of course.”

Belle, Ruby and Emma laughed at that, and Ruby grinned at Emma as she said: “rule number 500: don’t ever steal chocolate from the canteen.”

“I’ll try not to,” Emma said halfheartedly and quickly stuffed the chocolate bar inside her mouth. The less she said, the better. 

The subject was quickly turned to less “dangerous” things. They were mostly talking about the big concert where Ruby was gonna sing solo. 

“Don’t you ever get scared?” Emma asked.

“No. Well, sometimes I do get nervous,” Ruby replied. “But then I remind myself of how good I am. How long I’ve rehearsed the piece. That usually does the trick.”

“Yeah? I mostly just picture everyone naked,” Lily chuckled. 

“Lily!” Emma protested. “That is not...”

“A thing?” Lily finished the sentence with a grin. “Sorry to break it to you, Swan, but I’m pretty sure it is, actually.”

“I usually go for more conventional methods,” Belle interrupted. “Like taking deep breaths before I sing.”

Ruby looked at Emma. “Do you still get nervous when you sing, Emma?”

“It’s not that bad,” Emma lied. “I’ve been talking a lot to Malena and Mme. Carlotta about it, and I think I’m doing better.”

“You are,” Lily said immediately. “Over the last week... I don’t know exactly what’s happened, but your voice has just seemed....I dunno, stronger.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Emma said a bit vaguely. That was a lie. She had noticed. And there had been a reason. The Phantom of the Opera. It had been her advises that had improved Emma’s voice. She was the reason it sounded stronger and more secure. 

“You okay?” Ruby asked with a slight frown. 

“I’m fine,” Emma said hastily and flashed the older girl a smile. “Just fine.”

“You know, I think mom kinda wanted to murder us during tonight’s rehearsal,” Lily laughed. “Five threats about banishing us from the opera in one night. That’s gotta be a record for her.”

“I don’t think she’s that bad,” Emma smiled. She liked her mentor. Malena had been nothing but sweet to her. 

Belle stretched and grabbed her phone from the bed. “Alright, is there anyone here who would like to listen to something that ISN’T opera for a change?”

Everyone found that to be a brilliant idea. Ruby even claimed that she “longed for it”, and soon some kind of pop song with a fast beat floated out of the phone’s speaker. Everyone jokingly sang along, and Ruby made them crack up by singing the song one octave higher than the singer. Once again, she proved what an excellent singer she was, and once again Emma felt proud over just knowing her.   
Ruby was immensely talented, and Emma couldn’t wait to hear her sing at the memorial concert. Ruby’s voice would sound amazing in the large room. When she was done singing, everyone applauded, and Ruby pretended to be some famous singer accepting her fans gratitude. That, Emma thought to herself, could very well be the future Ruby was heading towards. When she was done here, she would head out in the world and enchant people with her beautiful voice. Maybe she would end up in Italy or something. Anywhere with a big stage. 

“Don’t tell Malena I wasted my voice on this,” Ruby laughed. “She’d kill me.”

“We won’t tell a soul,” Belle vowed and chuckled as she gave her friend a nudge. 

“Now it’s your turn!” Ruby declared with a sneaky grin on her face. 

And that was how Emma spend her evening singing silly pop songs with her friends and eating way too much chocolate in between.......

For the first time ever in her life, Emma missed a curfew. She and Lily and Belle had so much fun with Ruby, they completely overheard the little bell signalizing that it was time to back to your room, and sometime after curfew, Malena came into Ruby’s room and informed them of how late it had gotten. Ten thirty, to be exact. Emma was shocked. Where had the time gone? Normally, she would be in bed by this time. Asleep or curled up with a book. But at most times asleep. Emma was hardly a night owl. She always got so awfully sleepy at night, and she couldn’t quite believe how she had managed to stay awake for this long.

“Shit!” Lily exclaimed. 

“Lilith!” Malena scolded and narrowed her blue eyes at her daughter. “I don’t think such foul language is required. Now back to your room this instant!”

“Moooom,” Lily complained. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“And YOU are breaking curfew, cupcake,” Malena said unbothered by her daughter’s embarrassment and red cheeks. She gave all four girls in the room a stern look. “ Miss Lucas, you best remember when curfew is when inviting younger students to your room.”

Ruby nodded and looked properly chastened. “Sorry, Malena.”

Malena gave a slight nod and turned her attention to her daughter. “Now off to bed. Same goes for you, miss French and miss Swan. If you’re back in your rooms in.... thirty seconds, I’ll pretend that this   
never happened, and no one will be in trouble for having broken curfew.”

Emma and Belle and Lily hastily said goodnight to Ruby and hurried back to their rooms. Emma couldn’t help but laugh when she saw Belle and Lily sprint off in different directions. It looked like something straight out of a comedy show. And they would definitely be back in their rooms before five seconds had passed. 

“Off to bed, miss Swan,” Malena said, making Emma jump when ‘appearing’ right behind her. Malena really knew how to move quietly.

“Of course, Malena,” Emma said sheepishly. “Sorry!”

“Goodnight, miss Swan,” Malena joked. “As soon as possible, I hope!” 

Emma followed Lily’s example and sprinted down the dark hallway, laughing quietly as she did so. She was still giggling by the time she reached her room. Malena could be really funny sometimes. 

Emma closed the door to her room and walked straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She knew it was late, but she actually wasn’t that tired. She would probably stay up and read for a while. While eating her apple. Exactly like she had decided earlier. It had been a fun night. Belle and Ruby were nice girls. Not stuck up or mean like she had been afraid of when she first came here. And Lily was a great girl too. And oh, how they had laughed tonight. Emma’s ribs actually felt a bit sore from laughing, and just thinking about Ruby’s jokes made her want to laugh all over again. Emma spat the toothpaste out in the sink and rinsed her mouth. Then she reminded herself to be quiet. Everyone (except for Ruby and Belle and Lily) were asleep. She couldn’t giggle to herself like she was some kind of maniac. 

Emma left the bathroom and nearly stumbled over her bag. “Woops,” she muttered. Why had she just dumped it there by the bathroom door? That was stupid. She almost tripped over it. With a sigh, she crouched down and unzipped it. She grabbed the apple she had saved for later, and luckily, it still looked nicely red and fresh. Emma went back to the bathroom and quickly rinsed the apple. Now she was ready to go to bed with her apple and a chapter of “Pride and Prejudice”. With her apple in hand, she walked over to her dresser to get changed for the night. Her intention had been to open the dresser and find her pajamas, but something distracted her. A subtle, yet distinct feeling that something was different. She switched on the light and winced. Her eyes had just gotten used to the dark. But as soon as she had adjusted to the bright light, she immediately saw what it was that was different. 

The mirror had been cracked open. 

First, Emma was sure that her imagination was playing tricks on her, so she blinked. She even took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. But when she put on her glasses again, the mirror was still cracked open. And that wasn’t the only thing. A little white scrap of paper had been attached to the smooth surface. “Someone” had left a note attached with tape for her on the mirror. 

Emma felt a mixture of excitement, wonder and anxiety as she quickly stumbled over and freed the note from where it had been attached to the mirror. The tape left a grimy mark on the mirror, but Emma didn’t care about that. The only thing she cared about, was the note in her hand, and she hastily unfolded it so she could read it.

That was something that was quickly done. Because there had only been written two words on the white scrap of paper. ‘I’m hungry’. 

Something washed over Emma. Relief. Warm, palpable relief. The Phantom had opened the mirror. The Phantom had left her a note. The sensible, and very small part of herself yelled that this could be some sort of trick. A way to lure her back in the lair. But the other, and less sensible part of Emma was more than capable of shoving that concern aside. Any concern for that matter. Yes, it was late, but so what? No one would know of this. Yes, it was past curfew, but what did that matter? She would be back in her room before anyone would realize that she had even been gone. Nobody knew that the mirror in her room was anything but that. No one knew of the secret opening behind it. 

Emma looked at the tempting crack between the mirror and frame. Then she looked down at the red and shiny apple in her hand. 

Wasn’t the choice a fairly easy one to make?

To Be Continued...........


	18. Flattering Child

An apple wasn’t much to bring, but Emma didn’t think of that. In fact she wasn’t thinking about much when she slipped through the secret gateway. She quickly and clumsily closed the mirror behind her and then began her descendance through the dark passageway. She could feel the thrum of her heart just behind her ribs. Could feel the beat of her pulse. She was on her way to see the Phantom. And the thought of that made her feel... giddy. Yes, giddy. That was probably the only word she could use to describe how she was feeling. Seeing the Phantom’s note attached to her mirror had made a flood of relief seep through her body. She didn’t even feel particularly cold as she wandered through the underground tunnel. The cold didn’t bother her. The only thing she could focus on was getting to the lair as quickly as possible. It was late, very late, and gods knows how long that note had been sitting on her mirror. Maybe for hours and hours. The Phantom was hungry. The thought of that only made Emma walk faster. It didn’t occur to her that she should have brought more food than just an apple. The only thing on her mind was making it to the lair as fast as possible, and the rush made her stumble and nearly trip on her way. But she didn’t care about that either. So what if she ended up with scraped knees? What did it matter when she was on her way to see the Phantom? Something fluttered in Emma’s chest, and she couldn’t quite believe this. When she woke up this morning, she thought that she would never see the Phantom of the opera again, and now she was on her way to see her again. Had the Phantom really forgiven her? Just like that? Or was it perhaps her pleading last night that had done the trick? Emma didn’t know that either, and once again the thought that this could be a trap snuck its way into her brain. But only to be pushed away just as quickly. She didn’t want this to be a trap. It couldn’t be. But even if it was, Emma would definitely take the opportunity to beg and plead the Phantom to forgive her. She would even fall to her knees if that was what it took. 

She continued her walk through the tunnel, clutching onto the table as though her life depended on it. Emma sort of felt like it did. The Phantom had sent for her. The Phantom was hungry. Emma had let her starve. Who knows, maybe the mirror had been unblocked the whole day. Emma hadn’t even checked it. And now she felt guilty for it. This would be the last time she would let the Phantom starve. 

As she walked, Emma wondered what the Phantom had done before she showed up. Perhaps Christine had brought her food, but what about after she died? What had the Phantom done then? Eaten once a day. That’s what she had said. And Emma had a feeling that those had been very small meals. Once again, she wondered how the Phantom was able to live like that. Why in a lair far below the Parisian opera? Would it do any good to ask any questions tonight? What sort of answer would be met with? Laughter or snark? Or just no answer at all? 

When Emma was halfway there, she had to stop and take a deep breath. She had hurried tonight, and now there was a slight stabbing just below her ribs. She breathed in through her nose and then allowed the air to woosh out through her mouth. Her feet were cold. She hadn’t even thought of shoes before rushing through the mirror. But at least she hadn’t changed into her pajamas before stumbling through the mirror. That would have been... Well, for whatever reason, Emma didn’t like the idea of the Phantom seeing her in her pajamas. Emma pushed a strand of blonde hair away from her face and turned her head to glance back at the place she came from. She hadn’t been particularly quiet when she pushed the mirror back in place. Emma hoped that no one had heard her and reminded herself to be quiet the next time. If there even was a next time. Maybe this was just the Phantom’s way to formally banish her from the lair. Emma’s gut churned. She certainly didn’t hope so. She preferred believing that this was the Phantom’s way of forgiving her instead. That was why she had left that note on the mirror, right? It had to be. But what if.... Emma’s gut twisted again. What if the Phantom had grown tired of waiting for her? Or worse, what if she believed that Emma wasn’t gonna show up? What if she had changed her mind while waiting? 

The thought of that only made Emma walk faster. She was actually running now. Strands of her hair were escaping the braid and fluttering around her face instead, but Emma paid no attention to that. She could always stop and fix her hair right before she made it to the lair. She decided not to think about why fixing her hair was necessary and instead wondered what Christine had thought the first time she stepped through the mirror in her room. She probably hadn’t been afraid. She hadn’t seemed the type who got afraid. She had seemed like an adventurous spirit. Eager and curious. Emma wondered what the Phantom had thought the first time Christine had stepped inside the lair. According to Christine’s diary, the Phantom had been gentle to her. But had she been the same way once Christine found her?   
Or had she chased Christine out of the lair? Christine, Emma thought a tad bitterly to herself, had probably not fainted when she saw the Phantom’s mask. Emma was still angry at herself for having reacted like that. Had she reacted differently, the Phantom wouldn’t have stayed hidden behind that curtain for so long. Emma wouldn’t have grown curious about what was behind the curtain. And she certainly never would have snooped. The Phantom wouldn’t have gotten angry and chased her out of the lair. 

Essentially, all of this could have been avoided had Emma not fainted when she saw the mask. God, it was so ridiculous. It was literally just a white mask. Not even one of those with a scary face on it. Not one of those pig-masks Emma had seen at a Halloween party a few years ago. She had been scared for weeks afterwards. Had experienced bad nightmares about pig-masks. It had been really awful. 

“OH!” Emma screamed, and the cry echoed through the dark tunnel. She teethered and stumbled back against the raw stone wall she had been leaning against. The rapid movement made droplets of the water hit the bottom of her white dress, and Emma couldn’t stop herself from chanting ‘no-no-no-no-no!’. Not because she had just seen a pigs-mask. No. Something small and furry had just skittered over her foot! Emma looked down just in time to see a rat run through the tunnel. Oh god. A rat! That rat had just touched her bare foot. Emma shivered from head to toe. She absolutely hated rats. Detested them. It was something about their tails and the way they moved. And the idea that one of those animals had just touched her foot made her skin prickle, and she felt temped to scratch her foot.   
What if the damned thing had bit her?! That would have been awful. Emma was afraid. She could feel that in the way her heart was hammering, and her lip quivered. But she wasn’t actually that scared of the rat. What was making her afraid was actually the way her scream had echoed down here. It was terrifying. It hadn’t even sounded like her. It had sounded like some kind of animal in distress. Or some kind of monster she had dreamed of when she was a little girl. It suddenly occurred to Emma how dark it was down here. How the darkness just closed in around her as she went. How had she never been scared of that until now? Why hadn’t she been afraid of not being able to see anything? Suppose there were thousands of rats skittering around and just waiting for her to move? What if they planned on attacking her? What if they bit her? Scratched their way up her legs? 

Emma’s throat tightened. For a moment it felt like she was going to cry. Feeling that rat against her foot had really scared her. And the way her scream had echoed through the tunnel had made all the little hairs in the back of her neck stand up. She knew it was ridiculous to feel on the verge of tears because of one little dumb rat, but she couldn’t help it. Emma was afraid of many things, and rats just so happened to be another phobia of hers. Emma took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. She still felt stupidly close to tears. Stupid, stupid Emma.... 

‘Wandering child....’

Emma’s ears immediately perked up when she the Phantom’s deep and raspy voice echo through the tunnel. She had to be closer to the lair than what she first had assumed. 

‘So lost, so helpless...’

The Phantom’s voice was ghostly. It should have made Emma even more afraid, but....

‘Yearning for my guidance...’

Emma wasn’t. She wasn’t afraid. She felt as though she was being guided through the tunnel instead. And like she was being mocked just a little bit by the Phantom. There was the slightest hint of amusement in the Phantom’s voice. She had undoubtedly heard Emma’s wail of terror echoing through the tunnel. The Phantom’s tone was mocking, definitely. If she was trying to scare Emma, it wasn’t working as intended. Emma only kept walking and she knew that she was getting closer and closer because the Phantom’s voice seemed to rise in volume. When Emma concentrated on the Phantom’s voice, the darkness seemed less scary. Less consuming. Feeling so thankful about having been ‘rescued’ from the scary situation, Emma called: “thank you!” 

The only type of reply she got was a joking and mocking: ‘I’m here, the Phantom of the Opera...’

But no matter how jokingly the Phantom sang, the words didn’t scare Emma. Not even a little bit. It was like being pulled by a string. She couldn’t stop walking. And now the little hairs in the back of her neck were standing up for a very different reason indeed. It had only been a day, but Emma could suddenly feel how much she had been starving to hear the Phantom’s voice. How was it even possible to miss a voice that much? Emma’s heart was thrumming in her chest, and all she wanted was to hear the Phantom sing again. But the Phantom remained quiet. Because as Emma rounded a corner, she could see the light from the lair. She was here. She was back. And she refused to believe other than the Phantom had helped her find her way and not lured her. Or tried to scare her. Because it hadn’t felt scary. Not even remotely. It had felt... Something. But she couldn’t think of a fitting name for this ‘something’. So she tried to banish it from her mind and focused on what she could see instead. The faint stream of light coming from the opening to the lair. Emma carefully crouched down so she could wiggle through, and she had to blink several times to adjust to the light down here. Despite the light from the candles not being very harsh, Emma’s eyes were still used to the darkness now, and even the faintest light felt like looking directly at the sun. 

Once her eyes had stopped watering, she looked around in the lair. Saw the usual candles in every corner of the lair. The Phantom’s feather cloak. The pillows in the corner. The throne-like chair. She was back in the Phantom’s kingdom. But what she also noticed was that the black curtain hadn’t been drawn tonight either. 

Emma squinted slightly behind her glasses. Was this some kind of test? Was the Phantom testing her to see if she was gonna make the same mistake twice? Well, Emma wasn’t. No, she had learned her lesson the first time. There was no way that she would look into that room again. Ever. She was done snooping around and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. She looked away from the room behind the curtain and softly called: “hello?”

“Well, well.”

Emma yelped and turned around. She had thought that the Phantom would be ‘hiding’ behind the curtain as usually. It hadn’t occurred to her that she could be... right there. That was probably why she had walked right past her without noticing her. But there she was. The Phantom was sitting on the ground with a blanket draped over her narrow shoulders. She was wearing a black dress that appeared to be some sort of nightgown. It certainly had some rather flimsy straps. And there was a lot of, uh... skin. On display. Emma immediately fixed her attention on the Phantom’s face. Well, what she could see of it anyway. 

“Yes, it’s still there,” the Phantom said sardonically and reached up and touched the mask. “Are you gonna faint this time too?”

“N-no,” Emma said. She cleared her throat. “No.” good. That sounded more certain. 

The Phantom laughed and pushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. “Better late than never, little Swan. Do you have something for me?”

“I- yeah,” Emma showed the apple. 

The Phantom’s mouth seemed to twist under the mask. “Is that all?”

Emma blushed. “Well, I... Yeah. I didn’t think you’d want to- I mean, I didn’t think I was allowed to come back after...”

“Well, I changed my mind,” the Phantom interrupted and rose from her sitting position. The blanket slid off her shoulders and landed on the floor as she began walking towards Emma. “Give me that apple,” she said and extended a long-fingered hand out towards Emma.

Emma gave her the apple. The Phantom didn’t thank her. She just took a bite of the apple. And then another and another. The note on Emma’s mirror hadn’t been a lie. The Phantom really was hungry. And while she had her mouth full of apple, Emma took the opportunity to say: “I’m sorry. For what I did. I never should have-“

“Yes, yes, you already said that last night,” the Phantom cut her off. “Seeing that I’m not deaf, I heard what you said last night. All of if.”

“Oh.” Emma looked down at the floor. 

The Phantom took another solid bite of the apple. Chewed, swallowed and then narrowed her eyes at Emma. “I’m not going to apologize for what I said to you last night,” she said simply. 

“I, uhh.. I deserved that. Every word.”

“But,” the Phantom continued as though she hadn’t heard Emma’s comment. “Grabbing you like I did... That is something I should not have done, and I do regret that.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you... apologizing to me?”

“Did you hear me say the words ‘I’m sorry’?” the Phantom snapped. “No. You did not. Ergo, I was not apologizing to you.” She took another bite of the apple and sat back down. 

Emma was a bit unsure of what to do, so she ended up sitting down as well. Within a reasonable distance of the Phantom of course. She looked around in the lair, once again taken by the beauty of this place. It didn’t matter that it was a lair. She discreetly looked at the Phantom as she ate the apple. Her hair was a bit mussed up, Emma noted. And the dress she was wearing had to be some kind of nightgown. And then there was the blanket draped around her shoulders...

“Were you... did I wake you?” Emma asked when she had connected the dots. 

“Yes,” the Phantom said dully. “Your cry of agony woke me.”

“Oh,” Emma cringed. “I’m... I’m sorry about that.”

The Phantom ignored that and absentmindedly twirled the half-eaten apple between her long fingers. “Was it a rat?” 

“Yeah. It was.” Emma hung her head. 

The other woman laughed frostily. “I do hope you didn’t do anything to it. I don’t have that much company down here.”

“The rat is fine,” Emma muttered. She hadn’t even tried to kick it. She had just done an odd little dance when it ran away. 

The Phantom chuckled again and then took another bite of the apple. There wasn’t that much left of it anymore. In less than ten bites she had finished the apple. And it didn’t take her long swallow this bite either. “I hope there will be more than this tomorrow night,” she said flatly. “But thank you, I suppose.”

“You’re welcome! And yeah, there will definitely be more food tomorrow night,” Emma rambled, rushing to assure the Phantom. 

“Good.”

An odd silence fell between them, and Emma wasn’t completely sure how to fill it. She didn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until the Phantom explicitly told her to. And the Phantom hadn’t. She was just sitting absentmindedly and wrapping strands of her dark locks around her index finger. Emma knew that staring probably was the direct way for her to get herself kicked out of the lair yet again, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help but keep looking at the Phantom when she finally was sitting right there. The white half-mask wasn’t that scary, really. One could wonder why Emma had fainted in the first place. The Phantom was... Well, she was an attractive woman. Anyone could see that. 

Wait, what? Where did that come from? 

Emma shook her head and cleared her throat. 

“Well?” the Phantom said, voice sounding like a whiplash in the quiet lair. “Are you just gonna sit there, or are you gonna sing something tonight?”

“S-sing?” Emma stuttered. Oh, right. Sing. She always sang whenever she was here. But the Phantom wasn’t usually sitting and watching her. Emma felt her stomach twist with anxiety. 

In one fluid motion, the Phantom rose from her spot and pulled the blanket with her as she walked away. “Go on,” she said dully as she turned her back on Emma. “Sing, little Swan.”

And Emma began to sing. The first song coming to mind. ‘Beau Soir’ by Claude Debussy: “Lorsque au soleil couchant les rivières sont roses, Et qu’un tiède frisson court sur les champs de blé. Un conseil d’être heureux semble sortir des choses. Et monter vers le cœur trouble...” she wasn’t entirely sure why a French art song was her first choice tonight. Maybe because she had heard Grandma Eva sing it a million times. 

“Go on,” the Phantom commanded. She still had her back to Emma. 

Emma took a deep breath. And then she did what the Phantom ordered her to. Continued. “Un conseil de goûter le charme d’être au monde. Cependant qu’on est jeune et que le soir est beau, Car nous nous en allons, comme s’en va cette onde: Elle à la mer—nous au tombeau!” her voice was fragile as a butterfly and delicate as a soap bubble swirling up towards the roof of the lair. She sounded nervous, but she figured that she was allowed to when the Phantom was here and not hidden by the black curtain. 

“Good.” The Phantom said curtly. “But you’re still being too breathy.”

“I know,” Emma mumbled. “I’m working on it. And I’m trying my best. I really am.”

“Of course you are,” the other woman said almost gruffly. “Otherwise you’d hardly be here at the opera, would you?”

Emma could think of nothing to say to that. She just watched as the Phantom walked around in the lair and hummed absentmindedly to herself. Emma was half-sure she recognized the melody. And perhaps that was what prompted her to ask: “can I... Can I hear you sing?”

“Hm,” the Phantom said. Then she went quiet. Too quiet. Emma didn’t think that she would respond to her question, but then the Phantom’s ghostly voice soared through the lair: “and weeks pass, and months pass, seasons fly, still you don't walk through the door, and in a haze, I count the silent days.... Till I hear you sing once more.”

Immediately, Emma forgot time and place. She even forgot her own name. All she could do was sit tight and listen as the Phantom sang. “And sometimes at night time, I dream that you are there. But wake, holding nothing but the cold night air...”

Emma wetted her lips and shifted a little on the raw stones she was sitting on. There was so much raw longing in the Phantom’s voice. So much heartache. For a moment, Emma felt all of it. For a moment, it was like the Phantom was able to project her feelings onto Emma. She felt the raw heartache. The devastating grief the Phantom was feeling. 

“And years come, and years go, time runs dry. Still I ache down to the core, my broken soul can't be alive and whole..... Till I hear you sing once more....”

Now Emma actually had to clear her throat. It felt completely tight. Like she had a big ball of cotton stuck in her throat. It was difficult to breathe when the Phantom was singing. It was hard to do anything but listen. And the Phantom kept singing with that deep, velvety voice: “And music, your music! It teases at my ear, I turn and it fades away and you're not here!” her voice was stronger now, less controlled, but still devastatingly beautiful. Emma had to rub her arms where the little hairs were standing on edge. 

“Let hopes pass! Let dreams pass! Let them die! Without you, what are they for? I'll always feel no more than halfway real...... Till I hear you sing once more!

The last note seemed to shatter against the wall in the lair, and Emma was left completely breathless. She had never heard anyone sing with such rawness yet complete control over her voice. How was it even possible? How could one sound so vulnerable yet so controlled? There was nothing soap bubbly about the Phantom’s voice. Her voice was like fire spreading and covering every inch of the lair. And Emma. She felt it. She felt the music like she hadn’t felt it before. It didn’t matter that the Phantom didn’t have an orchestra or a choir behind her. She didn’t need one. She had enough music within her to make an orchestra or a choir redundant. 

“That was...” Emma’s voice broke. “That was beautiful.” 

The Phantom laughed. “Flattering child. Yes. Yes, it was.” she kept her back towards Emma as she sang: ‘And come what may, I swear somehow, some way.... I will hear you sing.... once more!’

Once again, Emma’s breath was taken away. She had never heard anyone deliver a promise like this one. She wished she knew what it was about. She waited until she was sure that she wouldn’t interrupt the Phantom’s singing, and then she asked: “who are... who are you singing about?” 

The Phantom didn’t respond to that. She just turned around slowly and looked at Emma. Her gaze was unfathomable, and Emma suddenly felt very small. She looked down at her bare, dirty feet. Why did she always feel like she was saying the complete wrong thing? And especially when she was with the Phantom. Emma brushed lint off the bottom of her dress and contemplated what she should do next.   
Maybe she should sing some more. The Phantom liked when she sang. At least Emma thought that she liked it. But you never could be completely certain when it came to the Phantom. 

“You haven’t even asked me yet,” the Phantom suddenly said flatly. 

Emma’s gaze snapped up. “Asked you what?”

The Phantom shrugged, and her mouth twisted slightly. “You saw the diary. You saw the clothes. The hairclip. So why haven’t you asked me yet?”

“Asked you WHAT?” 

“If I killed her,” the Phantom said simply and fixed Emma with a look. “If I killed Christine.”

Emma said nothing. 

“Isn’t that the most rational assumption?” the Phantom sneered. “You read the diary, did you not? You know that she was here.”

“Yes,” Emma said quietly and didn’t look away from the Phantom. “I know that she has been here, but... I don’t think you killed her.”

The Phantom looked surprised for a moment before she managed to scold her features into something cold. “No? I thought that was why you are here. To coax a confession out of me... to play detective and find out what happened three years ago...”

“It was,” Emma admitted. 

“But not anymore?” the Phantom mocked. 

“No,” Emma said plainly. “Now I just wanna.... be here, I guess. You’ve taught me so much already, and I wanna learn more. And I want to-“ she felt herself flush. “I want to talk to you. I think you’re... fascinating.” 

The Phantom gave her a look that suggested she was out of her mind. Then she chuckled dryly. “Flattering child,” she repeated. “You are merely trying to earn my forgiveness through flattery.”

“No,” Emma protested. “I am not! I mean it, I really do find you-“

“I’ll give you a confession anyway,” the Phantom interrupted and came closer. Soon she was standing right in front of Emma, and as opposed to a moment ago, her voice was low and nothing but a whisper when she said: “this is my confession, little Swan. I did not murder Christine Daaé. I would rather stab myself a thousand times than doing anything that could bring harm upon her.”

Emma took in the sincerity in the Phantom’s words. If she had been doubtful before, she certainly wasn’t anymore. The Phantom of the Opera did not kill Christine Daaé. “You and she were friends,” Emma said quietly.

“Friends,” the Phantom repeated and laughed. “That's sweet. How old are you, little Swan?”

“Seventeen,” Emma said somewhat confused. 

“Seventeen,” the Phantom nodded. “Then I’m sure you’ll understand what I’m talking about soon enough.”

Emma did not understand. She was confused and was about to ask the Phantom to elaborate, but the other woman talked before she could get to it. 

“No, I did not kill Christine,” she said lowly. “But someone else did, little Swan. And I want to know who and why. I won’t rest until I find out what happened, and when I do...” she trailed off and looked right through Emma. “Then everyone will know what happens when you make the Phantom of the Opera angry...”

Emma shivered again. This time out of fear. In this moment she understood why the Phantom of the opera was a scary myth in the opera. “So... that’s why you’re here?” she asked quietly. “To find out what happened to Christine?”

“That’s why I’m here now,” the Phantom replied. “My purpose at the opera was a different one before I met Christine Daaé, but now...” she trailed off again. 

“I want to help you,” it bursted out of Emma. 

The Phantom scoffed. 

“I mean it!” Emma insisted and sat up straighter. “I want to help you find out who killed her.”

“Oh no, little Swan. You’ll do no such thing,” the Phantom brushed her off. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“But-“

“No buts!” she snapped. “You will not stick your nose in this.”

Emma held her tongue. She had made a vow to herself about not sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, but she still wanted to help the Phantom find out what happened to her friend and ‘pupil’. 

“Christine was on her way to greatness,” the Phantom interrupted Emma’s thoughts. “She was about to do so much with her life, and then someone took all that away from her. And that is something I will never be able to accept. I don’t just want to find out who did this to her, I want to AVENGE her!”

Emma shivered again. 

“Yes, it’s a scary word isn’t it?” the Phantom said softly, almost gently. “Worlds away from anything you know.”

Emma nodded, silently agreeing with that statement. 

“It’s late,” the Phantom said abruptly. “You should get back to your little bed, little Swan.” 

Emma’s temper reared its head at that. “Will the mirror in my room be blocked tomorrow night?” 

“Will I go hungry for hours tomorrow night?” the Phantom shot back. 

“No,” Emma said immediately. “You will not.”

“Good. As for the mirror... Well, I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you? Now off you pop. Back to bed. You’ve kept me occupied long enough.” 

Emma reluctantly stood from her sitting spot on the stone floor. “What are you gonna do?” she asked. “Sleep?”

“What else would I do?” the Phantom scoffed. “There isn’t a ton of opportunities. But of course I could go for a stroll in the opera while everyone else is asleep...”

“You could get caught!” Emma immediately protested. 

The Phantom shot her a poignant look. “And so what? What’s that to you, little Swan? I’m sure your world wouldn’t stop turning if I disappeared, would it?”

“No, but-“

“No buts. Back to bed. Goodnight. Sleep well. Which ever you prefer.” She turned her back on Emma again, and as she did so, one of the straps on her nightgown slid down her shoulder. 

For a moment, Emma couldn’t stop looking at that ridiculous strap. But then she pulled herself together and asked a rather bold question: “what’s your name?” 

“Goodnight, little Swan.”

“Please?” Emma begged. “That’s the only thing I want to know. I promise I’ll leave right away after you’ve told me! Please?” 

The Phantom didn’t turn around. But she didn’t remain quiet like Emma had feared. She muttered. Mumbled something Emma had no chance of understanding. If it was a name, Emma hadn’t heard what it was. 

“What?” Emma asked softly and took a step closer. “What did you say?”

The Phantom spoke lowly once more. Still entirely too hushed for Emma to be able to hear all of it, but this time she heard what sounded like a name ending on ‘na’.

“What?” Emma repeated and shuffled forward again. “Please, I didn’t hear what you said?”

“Regina.” the Phantom said, and it sounded like it was causing her pain to say it out loud. “My name is... Regina.”

“Regina,” Emma repeated and felt breathless once more. The Phantom’s name was Regina. Not “Antoinette” like Emma had thought. But she wasn’t disappointed. Not the least. The name Regina was oddly fitting. Actually it was very fitting. And... and beautiful. “Regina,” she said again. 

“Hush!” the Phantom sneered and spun around. “There’s no reason to repeat it! And you’re forbidden to ever say that name out loud, do you understand me?!”

“Yes,” Emma said and felt like she was physically shrinking under the Phantom’s anger. “I-I promise that I won’t say it out loud. Only when I’m here.”

“Preferably not here either,” The Phantom- Regina- said flatly. “Just because you know my name doesn’t mean that you should use it at any given moment.”

“You don’t like your name,” Emma said plainly. 

“I don’t like remembering,” the Phantom corrected. She didn’t elaborate. Just said: “Now go. It’s late and I want to be alone.”

“Okay,” Emma said reluctantly. She HAD promised to leave as soon as the Phantom had told her her name. The Phantom had fulfilled her end of the deal. Now it was Emma’s turn. She reluctantly walked towards the opening of the lair, but right before she squeezed through it, the Phantom stopped her by saying: “you might wanna bring that.”

Emma looked back and followed the Phantom’s pointing finger. She was pointing to a tall candle in a holder. 

“It’ll keep away the rats,” the other woman continued. “I’ve no interest in being awakened by your cries of terror again.” 

Emma smiled. She couldn’t help it. Because that was undoubtedly a kindness. “Thank you,” she said sincerely as she took the candle. “Thank you so much.” 

The Phantom shrugged. “Go away.” 

And so Emma went away like she had been ordered to do. But with a spring in her step and a lightness in her chest. Because she was sure that underneath the white half-mask, she had seen the Phantom- Regina!- smile......

To Be Continued.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The french song Emma is singing doesn't exist in English. At least not sung. But I did manage to find some lyrics just to give you guys an idea of what she's singing :)
> 
> When at sunset the rivers are pink  
> And a warm breeze ripples the fields of wheat,  
> All things seem to advise content -  
> And rise toward the troubled heart;  
> Advise us to savour the gift of life,  
> While we are young and the evening fair,  
> For our life slips by, as that river does:  
> It to the sea - we to the tomb.


	19. The Face In The Mask

”I’m sorry,” Emma said sheepishly, feeling how the lie was coloring her cheeks pink. “I just don’t really feel up for it tonight. I’m a bit tired.” she was blatantly lying when explaining to Lily why she couldn’t come and hang out in her room later tonight. Emma wasn’t a good liar. Not at all. But the good old ‘I’m tired’ excuse always seemed to fly. 

“Oh, okay,” Lily said. “Yeah, I get it. Rehearsal was tough tonight.”

“It was!” Emma said, thoroughly relieved that Lily wasn’t seeing through her lie. 

“Too much singing, eh, Swanny?” Killian teased as he passed them. 

“Bugger off,” Lily told him and laughed. 

They were on their way downstairs to the canteen to have dinner. Finally. Emma had been completely on edge all day. Impatient for this day to be over with so she could sneak food into her bag and return to her room where the mirror hopefully would slide aside when she pushed at it. She had been very distracted today. Singing had been tough. And concentrating had been even tougher. She had been much too preoccupied with thinking about what had happened last night. Her actual conversation with the Phantom of the opera. Regina. She knew that the Phantom’s name was Regina now. That was a breakthrough! But that actually wasn’t the only reason why Emma had been distracted. All the while the choir had been rehearsing, she had felt as though they were being watched. She hadn’t been quite bold enough to look at Box Five, she wasn’t interested in rousing suspicion, but she was ninety nine percent sure that the Phantom- Regina!- had been present. She had been watching and listening as the choir sang, and Emma liked the idea that the Phantom was there. Even if it did make her feel even more shy than usually, she still found it to be strangely nice that the Phantom was watching them. And that had encouraged her to do her very best. Her unofficial teacher had been there, and for some reason, that had mattered more than the fact that Malena, her very official teacher had been present. 

Emma wanted to impress the Phantom. Utterly childish, she knew that, but she couldn’t help it. She just wanted Regina to smile and say she did well. That she had paid attention in class. Emma wanted to make the Phantom proud. And she tried not to think too much of her reasons for that. It didn’t matter. The Phantom was her teacher now, and of course Emma wanted to impress her teacher. That was only natural, right? Every good student wanted to impress their teacher. Nothing strange about that. 

Emma looked up and noted that Killian was grinning at her. She smiled back a tad surprised. She and Killian weren’t exactly close. She barely knew him. He was always in the front line in the choir, and they didn’t really hang out afterwards. He was a bit of a trickster, really. A joker of sorts. And Emma wasn’t too comfortable with practical jokes. 

They made it to the canteen where everyone was crowding to get food. Emma wasn’t completely sure why. Maybe everyone was just exceptionally hungry tonight. And maybe that was actually fairly understandable. Tonight’s rehearsal had been long and pretty difficult too. Emma should have been tired. But she wasn’t. She felt completely giddy with excitement. Upbeat. Maybe even a little too much. 

She reminded herself to calm down. She really couldn’t draw too much attention to herself. She had to act natural. And definitely not like she was on her way to an underground lair to meet a mysterious, masked woman. Emma had to suffocate a chuckle before it slipped out of her, and then she excused herself so she could go up and get some food. Luckily, Lily was busy chitchatting with Killian still. That was a good thing. Emma felt rather sneaky as she began filling her tray with food. Four chicken drumsticks. Two for herself, and two for the Phantom. Last night she had only brought and apple. She wanted to do better tonight. An apple wasn’t nearly enough food. Emma grabbed four bread rolls. She hoped that no one would pay too much attention to her. But they probably wouldn’t. That was one of the good things about blending in and being a ‘wallflower’. No one ever paid much attention to her. When her tray was full of both food and plenty of napkins, Emma discreetly went behind a pillar and opened her backpack. She wrapped the two chicken drumsticks and two layers of napkins and slipped them inside the bag. The two bread rolls and the apple followed suit along with a bottle of water she’d brought on a whim. And she would do that every day from now on. Surely, the Phantom would be thirsty too. There had been no chocolate bars in the canteen today. Instead there had been chocolate cookies, and Emma had treated herself to four of them. Hopefully, the Phantom appreciated chocolate cookies as much as she did chocolate bars. There wasn’t much of a difference anyway. 

Emma carefully zipped her backpack and felt how her heart began to slow down again. It didn’t matter that she had done this a number of times already. She still got nervous every time she had to steal. But not particularly guilty about it. And maybe she should feel guilty about THAT, but in her mind, she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Quite the reverse. She was doing something good. There was a woman living in the underground lair. A woman who had to sneak around and only take little meals. She would have been starving if Emma hadn’t been doing what she was doing. How could that possibly be bad? 

Emma definitely couldn’t see how it could. She was helping. She was preventing someone from starving. That was never a bad thing, was it? And as for the thievery.... Well, no one had noticed anything yet. No one had complained about food going missing, and as long as that hadn’t happened....Well, Emma saw no reason to stop what she was doing, really. No one suspected a thing. And no one would definitely suspect her. She knew that for sure. 

With the ‘crime’ over and done with, Emma trotted over to the table where Lily was sitting along with Anna. And for whatever reason, Killian. Were they hanging out with him now? Emma wasn’t sure when that had happened, but she was willing to roll with it. From what she could see, he was engaged in a conversation with Lily, and Emma allowed herself to hope for a moment. It was very possible that Lily was bisexual, and maybe, somehow, if she and Killian got talking.... Well, then maybe they would discover how much they had in common. And Killian wasn’t bad looking. Emma might be gay, but she wasn’t blind. Killian was definitely what could be categorized as a ‘handsome guy’. Blue eyes, black and hair that had been styled in that particular, tousled manner. Sharp features. High cheekbones. Yes, Killian was a good-looking guy if you were straight or bisexual. And he was also super easy going. Very open and fun. Easy to talk to. Extrovert. Like Lily. To be perfectly honest, he was a far better match for Lily, and Emma hoped that Lily would realize that if she started to hang out more with Killian. They had so much in common. 

Emma sat down with her trey and dug into the salad she had chosen along with the chicken drumsticks. She couldn’t very well bring salad down to the lair, but if there had been a way, she surely would have. It didn’t take her long to realize that Killian and Lily and Anna were talking about the masquerade ball that was due to take place in the future. Apparently, that was a much bigger deal than what Emma first had assumed. The highlight of the year or something like that. But Emma wasn’t so sure she saw it that way. Loud music. Lots of people. Dancing. And... and masks. Emma found it to be difficult enough to read other people on a day to day basis. It would be even harder if they wore masks for an entire night. But she couldn’t cancel on the big masquerade ball, could she? The event of the year. The thing everyone was looking forward to. Lily would probably kill her if she tried. Emma snickered quietly to herself. 

“What’s the joke, Swanny?”

“Huh?” Emma looked up slightly confused. 

“You were grinning,” Killian pointed out with a grin of his own. “So, what’s the joke?”

“Oh, uhm... there’s no joke,” Emma said awkwardly. “I mean, you have to have been there to see why it was funny.”

“Oh,” Killian chuckled slightly. 

Emma turned her attention back to her food and reminded herself not to laugh in public. Unless she could whip out some joke, it was a weird thing to do. She stuffed salad inside her mouth and busied herself with chewing. That was one way to assure she wouldn’t be a part of the conversation. She didn’t want to admit to not being crazily excited about the masquerade-thing....

Emma was filled with anxiety when she finally returned to her room with the stolen goods. She wasn’t anxious because she had stolen, though. She was anxious because she couldn’t be a hundred percent sure whether the mirror would open for her or not. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe the Phantom- Regina!- had changed her mind after sending Emma on her way last night. She did seem very...... fluctuating. 

All Emma could do, was hope for the best. She adjusted the backpack on her bag and then walked over to the mirror. But she didn’t push at it right away. Instead she slipped off her glasses and used the tip of her finger to wipe underneath her eyes where her mascara had smudged a bit. She inspected her lips to insecure that the pale pink lipstick she had applied this morning was still sitting on her lips and not on her chin or anywhere else for that matter. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. Good. She didn’t want to waste time applying more lipstick. She was in a hurry. Had somewhere to be. Emma lifted a hand and loosened her hair from the high ponytail she had been sporting that day. Golden tendrils immediately spilled down her shoulders and her back. Tickled her cheek slightly. Emma tugged it away behind her ear, and as she stood there and looked at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered just what on earth she was doing. Why had it suddenly become necessary to check if her mascara was smudged or if her lipstick was still sitting? And why was she suddenly preferring to let her hair hang loose? That was ridiculous. And not to mention highly impractical. The underground tunnel was a damp place. The water was dripping from the walls and ceiling. Her hair would get frizzy. 

But what was done was done, and Emma had no intention of wasting time on redoing her hair. She slipped on her glasses and concentrated on the task at hand. Pushing the mirror. She winced as she did so. Was pretty sure a large bruise was forming on her shoulder, but she didn’t care about that, and she couldn’t quite suppress a triumphant giggle as she felt the mirror slide to the side. So the Phan- Regina hadn’t blocked it again. Emma could actually get through it now. Thank god! 

“Won’t mess anything up this time,” Emma vowed to herself as she squeezed through the passage and pushed the mirror back in place. On the floor, she found the long torch she had borrowed last night. 

A quick search through her backpack, and she found the little box of matches she had put in there beforehand. She lit the torch and smiled at the kindness the Phantom had shown her last night. Letting her borrow the torch. That was a nice thing to do. Emma had been afraid of the dark, but thanks to the flickering light from the torch, the trip back had been better. And rat free. 

Emma looked ahead. At last she was on her way again. And this time she wasn’t horrendously late. And she was bringing more food than just an apple. Regina was probably hungry. 

Regina. 

Emma still couldn’t quite get used to that. The Phantom’s name was Regina. Not the name she had imagined it to be, but she was definitely not unhappy about it. Regina was a very pretty name. But Regina didn’t like it. That much was clear. As Emma moved away from the mirror, she wondered why that was? How had Regina become the Phantom of the Opera? A name wasn’t much when there still was so much mystery surrounding Regina. Why didn’t she like her name? Why didn’t she like remembering? Remember WHAT, exactly? What kind of secrets was she harboring? What had her life been like before she came here? She had been a child once. Everyone had been a child once. 

Emma remembered what Regina had said last night. That she once had a different purpose with living in the lair. But now that purpose had changed. Now she wanted to find out who murdered Christine. She wanted to avenge Christine. Emma shivered a bit. The Phantom had looked so... dangerous when she said that. All fiery eyes and tight jaw. And what exactly did it mean, avenging Christine? Did the Phantom.... Emma swallowed something. Had Regina indirectly told her that she was going to kill the person responsible for Christine’s death? That was... Well, that was something that should have made   
Emma turn around and go back to where she came from. But she didn’t. Because however far from her world it was, she somehow understood the Phantom. Imagine living alone in a lair deep below everything. Never seeing anyone. Never talking to anyone. And then suddenly, someone like Christine walks in and starts talking to you. You teach her to sing, become friends with her. And then suddenly she’s gone again. That had to do something to a person. Regina had lost her only friend when Christine died, and Emma felt incredibly sorry for her. For both of them. What had happened to Christine was gruesome. And so meaningless. Why would anyone want to take the life of a seventeen year old girl? In what reality was that justifiable? Emma knew that the Phantom had ordered her to keep her nose out of this, but she wasn’t going to. She wanted to help Regina. She wanted to help her find out who had done this to Christine. She had to. She was too involved now. And she felt compelled to help the Phantom like she had helped her. Her singing lessons were invaluable. She had given Emma some of the best advises she had ever gotten, and for that Emma wanted to help her. But it wasn’t just because of that. There was another reason too. One that Emma wasn’t too sure about. One she couldn’t quite pinpoint or put a name on. But maybe she didn’t have to. The bottom line was still the same. She wanted to help the Phantom with avenging the girl who had been her only friend. And she didn’t care that Regina had told her to keep her nose out of it. She could still conduct her own little investigation without her knowledge. 

Emma wasn’t afraid as she walked through the tunnel this time. The flickering light from the torch kept the rats away, and she walked with a certain spring in her step. She was excited. Actually excited to see the Phantom again. She had told Emma her name. That had to mean something, right? She had opened up a little bit. Could it be that she was starting to trust Emma? 

Emma reminded herself not to jump the conclusion. It hadn’t been that long since Regina had been yelling at her and almost chasing her out of the lair. She didn’t trust Emma just yet. And they weren’t friends yet either. Unfortunately. If there was something Emma wanted, it was to be the Phantom’s friend. Knowing her name wasn’t enough. She wanted to know more. Wanted to know how Regina became the Phantom of the Opera. 

Emma sighed. She was going greedy. Too eager. She reminded herself to take it slow. Baby steps. She was the first person Regina had talked to in years. The first person since Christine. Whom apparently had become a good friend to the Phantom. All the more reason not to rush this. 

Emma held the torch a bit higher, and the flickering light made the shadows down here seem almost alive. Emma sternly reminded herself that they weren’t. The shadows were just shadows and not crooked monsters. There were no monsters down here. Only a few rats here and there. But they wouldn’t come anywhere near her thanks to the torch in her hand. Emma reminded herself to say thank you to Regina once more. It really was very nice of her to let Emma borrow the torch. 

Emma suddenly stopped mid-step. She put the torch down. Her ears perked up. She could hear something. The faint sound of someone playing the piano. Emma lingered for a second before inching closer to the opening of the lair. She didn’t recognize the melody, but it was definitely beautiful. It had to be something that had been composed by the Phantom herself. It couldn’t be anything else. 

Emma stopped again. Now she could hear Regina sing too. And not like last time where she had been joking around. This time she clearly didn’t know that Emma was listening. 

Emma stood rooted to the spot and listened to the Phantom singing in the lair:

‘Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation, darkness stirs; and wakes... temptation?’ a slight pause. The music from the piano stopped. Then a muffled: “no, that’s not going to work. Hmm...” Regina was clearly considering it. A moment later, she started playing the piano again as she sang: ‘Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation, darkness stirs; and wakes.... imagination. Silently, the senses abandons their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write, for I compose the music of the night.’ another slight pause. The piano took over. Then the Phantom spoke again. “Hmm. Not bad.”

That, Emma thought to herself, was to put it lightly. Hearing Regina just making this up as she went was one of the most impressive thing Emma ever had heard. As the Phantom played the piano, Emma inched closer. She could see the opening to the lair now. Could see Regina sit by the piano and playing. Emma was standing behind a sort of pillar, so when she poked her head around the corner, she was still completely hidden. Regina couldn’t see her, but Emma could definitely see her. And she silently wished that Regina would sing some more. 

It didn’t take long before her wish came true. ‘Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender’. “Yes, that could work.” The piano took over once more. A pause where the only thing Emma could hear was a slight scratching sound. Emma could see the Phantom scribble something down on a sheet of paper. Lyrics and nodes, most likely. Emma was completely fascinated. She had never witnessed anyone compose before. And the Phantom was doing it so effortlessly. Hastily scribbling down and murmuring as she did so. Then her long fingers landed on the piano again, and her soft yet raspy voice filled Emma’s ears again: ‘Turn your face away, from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light- and listen to the music of the night...’

That was when Emma felt something that had her retract her head and look at the wall instead of the scene unfurling in the lair. She shifted, but she could still feel it. A slight tingling sensation somewhere in her abdomen. A feeling that had her knees buckling slightly and a flush creeping up her neck. 

‘Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, purge your thoughts of the life you knew before, close your eyes.... Let your spirit start to soar...’

Regina’s voice was like butter. Emma’s insides felt like butter. How could one voice be so powerful? How was Regina able to sound so gentle yet so strong at the same time? Emma’s mind felt a bit foggy, and she was only partially aware that Phantom had stopped singing and she could hear scribbling instead. Emma tried to get back in touch with herself. She felt a bit lightheaded. Almost like she hadn’t been drinking enough, but at the same time not quite. It was a difficult feeling to explain. She could hear Regina mumble lyrics to herself. Scribble some more. But when she sang again there was no piano to accompany her. She had lowered her voice to something that was almost a whisper now. Regina’s soft, melodious voice was quietly filling Emma’s ears with the most beautiful sound she’d ever been fortunate enough to listen to: 

‘Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me-‘

A string of events happened at once. Emma stifled a gasp and her knees buckled slightly. She nearly stumbled back against the wall behind her, and as a result, she managed to kick one of the many little stones on the floor. It was send flying down the dark passage with a clatter. 

Regina stopped singing in the lair. Emma heard a bit of rustling, and then: “stop lurking and bring me my dinner, little Swan. I’m hungry. And it’s rude to spy on people.”

Emma sheepishly poked her head inside the lair. She took a deep breath but immediately noted that the tingling sensation had subsided as quickly as it had arrived. Then she came into the lair. She hoped that she hadn’t made Regina angry now. Her facial expression was a little hard to decipher behind that white half-mask. Emma shuffled closer.

Regina rose from the chair by the piano and strode through the lair. She was wearing the black feather cloak tonight. It was brushing over the floor with each step she took, and it probably would have looked silly on anyone else. But it actually looked quite nice on Regina. She sat down on the hard stone floor like she had last night. “Well?” she said impatiently. “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna bring me my food?”

“I- yes, yes of course,” Emma said, rushing to get her backpack off and unzipping it. She fumbled a bit as she hauled the food out of the bag. “I’ve got chicken drumsticks, two of them, two bread rolls, an apple and a chocolate cookie. They didn’t have any chocolate bars tonight. Is that alright?”

“Tomorrow night you’ll bring me some cutlery and a plate as well. I’m tired of eating like an animal,” Regina said tonelessly. 

“Oh.” Emma hadn’t thought about that. “Right. Of course. I’ll... I’ll bring you some cutlery tomorrow. Sure.” 

“Good girl. Now bring me that food!”

Emma walked over to the Phantom with the stolen goods. She carefully put the food down on the floor next to Regina. When Regina grabbed the apple and took the first bite, Emma sat down within a fair distance of her. “It was beautiful.”

Regina didn’t react. She just continued to eat the apple. 

“The music, I mean,” Emma clarified. “It was beautiful.”

“It was just words,” Regina said a tad coldly. “Words that doesn’t mean anything yet. And you were spying on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, now definitely chastened. 

“Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

The Phantom didn’t react to her promise. She once again turned her attention back to the apple she was in the process of eating. Emma rose from the stone floor. It was a bit too cold to sit on if you weren’t wearing a cloak. She walked a few steps away from Regina and looked around in the lair. The black curtain hadn’t been drawn tonight either. Emma was able to see right inside the ‘forbidden’ room where Christine’s stuff was. But she didn’t dare look too long in there, so instead she looked around in the lair again. Noted that there was a book lying spine up near the Phantom’s ‘bed’ in the corner. Emma squinted a bit behind her glasses as she read the title. ‘Lady’s Chatterley’s Lover’. “I thought you didn’t like romantic novels,” she said before she could stop herself and immediately cringed. It sounded too much like an accusation. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but that book belongs- belonged- to Christine,” Regina snipped. “And I don’t have much else to read down here.”

“Oh.” Emma looked at the book. She didn’t know where the sudden boldness came from, but she suddenly heard herself asking: “how come Christine lived down here?” 

“She didn’t like her room,” Regina said dully. “She didn’t like how dark it could get there. She preferred it down here where there was plenty of candles.”

Emma was honestly surprised at how much Regina was telling her right now. “And you... you didn’t mind that?” 

“No, I found her company to be quite pleasant,” Regina said, still completely tonelessly. “Sometimes she would read to me when she was here. One of her silly romantic novels that always made me laugh, but still-“ she trailed off and cleared her throat like she realized that she had said too much. She took another bite of the red apple Emma had brought her. 

“Was Christine bullied?” it bursted out of Emma. Again, she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Only until she sat everyone straight.”

“By learning how to sing?” 

Regina scoffed. “Christine learned to sing because she WANTED to. Not because she was trying to please her surroundings.” 

It was high time to change the subject for sure. “Were you watching me- I mean, us- rehearsing today?” Emma asked. 

“Yes,” Regina said simply. 

“Did you like it?” 

“It was fine. Not mind-boggling in anyway, but not completely terrible either. Now shut up. I’m trying to eat.”

Emma felt herself flush when scolded by the Phantom. “Sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

Regina didn’t react to that in any way. She kept eating the apple until there was basically nothing left of it. Then she moved along to one of the bread rolls. 

Emma resumed her walk around in the lair. She was so curious about this place still. Every little nook and cranny seemed to reveal something new every time. Tonight it just so happened to be a drawing.   
Not a very good drawing, but Emma could still see that it was a picture of two women, one blonde, one with dark hair. One with blue eyes, and one wearing a white half-mask. They were standing by what probably was supposed to be some sort of lake. Both of them were smiling widely.

“Don’t touch that,” Regina said dully.

Emma wasn’t planning on touching the drawing. But she did find it a bit sad that it was just laying abandoned in one of the corners. “Did you draw this?” she asked, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to ‘shut up’. 

“No, I don’t have a habit of drawing stick figures in my spare time.”

Emma opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. She didn’t have to ask who had drawn it then. She already knew. For a while she stood lost in thoughts and looked at the drawing. But then she remembered where she was and turned back around. Regina had one of the two bread rolls and was now carefully rolling the chicken drumstick between her fingers. 

“Are you not in the mood for chicken tonight?” Emma asked softly. 

“My stomach isn’t,” Regina said gravely. 

“Oh. Are you sick?” Emma asked, immediately worried. 

“No. I’m fine. I’ll eat it later. You can go now, little Swan. You’ve done your part.” 

Emma didn’t leave. Instead she walked over to the Phantom and sat down next to her. Regina sighed and even behind the strange mask, Emma could see how she was rolling her eyes. “Now what?” 

“Nothing,” Emma said. “I just figured you’d want some company.” 

Regina scoffed but didn’t deny it. 

For a moment neither one of them said anything. Emma was sneaking glances at the Phantom as she sat there in her black velvet dress. The dress was long sleeved and had a V down the front. Her pointy collarbones were on display, and Emma thought to herself that Regina was a bit too skinny. But still... Well... beautiful. 

Emma swallowed something that felt like an unexpected lump. What on earth was the matter with her tonight? What were these thoughts, and why did they suddenly pop up in her head? Had she not had enough liquid today? Strained herself too much? There definitely had to be something the matter with her. 

Regina made a slight little movement that made her long black hair swing back and forward. Her hair was hanging loose down her back. A few tendrils were bouncing around her cheeks, and Emma both wanted to look at them and... not look at them. She ended up looking down. Looking at the Phantom’s hands. Her long fingers were tearing one of the napkins while she was absentmindedly humming that melody she had been singing when Emma arrived. Emma zoomed in on her mouth. Only a slight part of it was hidden under the white half-mask. That mysterious white mask. Emma didn’t find it to be frightening anymore. She was starting to see it as a part of the Phantom’s wardrobe, but still...

“Can I ask you something?” she said and broke the silence. 

“Have you done anything besides that since you set foot here?” Regina asked sardonically. 

Emma took that as a go-ahead sign. “Why are you wearing that mask?” she asked softly. 

For a moment, it looked like the Phantom was going to explode. Her face went pale, and Emma instantly inched away, ready to apologize, but then Regina composed herself and chuckled a tad darkly: “People wear masks for two reasons, little Swan,” she said almost gently. “Because they want to scare you, or because they want to hide. Which one of the two reasons do you think is the case here?” 

“I...” Emma thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think you’re trying to scare me,” she said slowly. “If you were, you would have worn a different mask. One that covers your entire face. A scary one. Like a Halloween one. With a scary face on it. But you’re not.” 

“Clever girl.” 

“You’re trying to hide then?” Emma asked, more confused than ever. “Why?” 

“Because what’s underneath this mask-“ Regina tapped the white half-mask with a long finger. “Is far worse than any of your scary Halloween masks, little Swan.”

“I don’t understa-“

“If I were to ever take off this mask,” Regina interrupted. “You would scream so loud everyone in the stage room would hear you. You’d run. You’d pay no attention to the rats in the tunnel. You would run faster than ever before, and your only thought would be to get as far away from here as possible. You would burst through the mirror and cry hysterically as you struggled to push it back in place. And you would block it. With your dresser and your chairs. And when you went to bed, you’d be terrified of closing your eyes because you know that you would see me the instant you did. It would haunt your every waking moment as well as your dreams. If you ever saw what’s underneath this mask, you would never be free. That’s why I’m hiding. Is that explanation satisfying enough for the little detective?” 

Emma’s head was spinning. “I still don’t understand.”

“I’m not expecting you too,” Regina said lightly as she stood from the stone floor. “Now off you pop. It’s bedtime. There will be no singing tonight. I’m tired. But if you come a little earlier tomorrow night, I’ll give you another lesson. Goodbye.”

Emma had no choice but to leave. Dizzy and confused and with the promise to be early tomorrow night, she grabbed her backpack and bid Regina good night and skittered back through the dark tunnel. 

She undressed and went to bed. Fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. And one could assume that her dreams would have been scary after what she had just been told, but they weren’t. They were pleasant. Filled with music. Beautiful music. Music that made her both float and fall. And flickering lights from candles. 

That was the first time the Phantom of the Opera haunted Emma Swan’s dreams. But not in a remotely scary way....

To Be Continued.........


	20. You Can Fool Any Friend Who Ever Knew You

Emma felt tired, so tired when she slipped through the passage behind the mirror. Tired and frustrated. She had sung tonight. A lot. It felt like she had sung her heart out, and yet Regina hadn’t been satisfied. She had acted even more disinterred and bored than normally, and no matter what Emma had said or done, she couldn’t pull the mask-clad woman out of it. Everything she said was met by a scoff. Or a sigh. Or a pose that more than suggested the Phantom was bored. She hadn’t sung tonight, and deep down Emma had been terribly disappointed. Hearing the Phantom sing was one of the highlights of her day, and when it didn’t happen, Emma felt as though she had missed out on something important. 

Emma had done her best tonight while singing. A piece from “La Boheme”. While she had sung, Regina had paced back and forward in the lair. That had made Emma nervous, and she had messed up some of the lyrics. And of course Regina had commented on that as soon as Emma stopped singing. She had scoffed and asked if Emma also had the habit of messing up the lyrics while she was rehearsing with the rest of the choir. Emma had blushed and mumbled that she had gotten nervous. And Regina had turned her gaze to the ceiling and said: “right”. What a horrible little word that was. And especially when said like that. All flatly and disinterested. 

So yes, Emma was quite frustrated tonight. Because she had messed up. Because Regina had been even more cold towards than usual. And because she had been dying to ask the Phantom what was wrong, but had been too scared to do so. She had feared that Regina wasn’t gonna answer her, so Emma had held her tongue. But she was sure she had could sense that Regina too was frustrated. Upset in some way. But Emma didn’t know why. She wasn’t sure how to ask, wasn’t sure how Regina would react if she did, so she hadn’t. And Regina had send her on her way so much earlier than normally. 

That was one of the things that frustrated Emma too. She didn’t like ending their rehearsal earlier. And she certainly didn’t like the way the Phantom had send her on her way. With a simple ‘leave’. No ‘goodbye’ or ‘back to bed’. Not even a ‘get out of here’. Just ‘leave’. Emma had almost recoiled and cringed at that. And coming to think of it, she actually was a teensy bit worried about the Phantom. She had looked a bit pale tonight. Well, the part of her face visible at least. Emma hoped that the Phantom wasn’t ill. A damp underground lair couldn’t possibly be the best place to be ill. Emma hoped that the Phantom- whatever there was wrong with her tonight- would feel better tomorrow. And hopefully she would sing too. Emma almost felt cheated when the Phantom didn’t sing. Even though she had no right to feel cheated, really. 

After having slid the mirror back in place, Emma sat down on the edge of her bed. Now what? Usually, she was in the Phantom’s lair around this time. She usually stayed much longer than she had tonight, and now she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Obviously, she could go to bed. But that would be a bit silly when it was still this early. She couldn’t call her parents either. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Obviously, she COULD call her parents. There was nothing to physically prevent her from it, but she had already talked to them once today. If she called them again, they would only get worried and think that something was wrong. And that obviously wasn’t the case. 

Emma absentmindedly wiggled her feet as she sat on the edge of the bed. She briefly considered reading one of her books, but it didn’t take her long to nix that idea. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate. 

And really, she didn’t feel up for reading. Which was a bit of a disaster because Emma was quite the reader. But not tonight. Not when she couldn’t shake the flat feeling she had in her belly. 

Maybe she should just go to bed instead. Get some sleep.

But before she could decide on this or that, there was a brisk knock on the door. Emma jumped a little but quickly collected herself enough to say: “come in?”

The door opened, and in came Lily. She was smiling widely, and Emma automatically smiled back. But silently wondered what on earth would have happened if she hadn’t been here when Lily knocked? What would Lily have done if there hadn’t been an answer? Would she have fetched her mom or Mme. Carlotta? Emma sure was glad she was here and not in the lair still. “Hey,” she smiled. “What’s up?” she was a little surprised at how chirpy and upbeat she sounded when she actually felt anything but that. 

“You busy?” Lily teased with a chuckle. 

“Can’t say that I am,” Emma half-laughed. “And I’m guessing, neither are you?”

“Not really,” Lily said cheerfully. “Well, I wasn’t until Ruby found me and asked if I wanted to come and hang out with her. And so I figured I’d ask to come too.”

“Oh,” Emma said. “Is that okay with Ruby?”

“Duh,” Lily rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you noticed that you’re becoming Ruby’s protégé?” she chuckled. “Or maybe not protégé, but anyway, she said that we should invite you too. So. Wanna come?”

“Yes,” Emma said, standing from the bed. She didn’t even need to consider it. “I would love too.”

“Awesome! Come on, then,” Lily grinned and motioned for Emma to hurry, but once Emma was standing right next to her and they were ready to leave the room, Lily frowned softly. “Em? What the hell is   
that in your hair?”

“What’s what in my hair?” Emma asked confused. 

“This.” Lily grimaced as she reached up and pulled something out of Emma’s hair. “Oh, that’s disgusting!” Emma complained when she saw what it was. 

“Uhm, yeah, it is,” Lily said, clearly torn between amusement and horror. “How the hell did you manage to get a cob web in your hair?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “I guess I must have walked into one without noticing.”

“Maybe I should tell my mom that they need to dust off this place,” Lily joked. 

“Yeah. That might be a good idea.” Emma went along on the joke even though she knew that there wouldn’t be dusted in the place where it was most likely that she had walked into that cob-web. In the   
underground lair. 

They left Emma’s room. Walked down the hallway. Lily joked about the cob-web in Emma’s hair, and Emma laughed at the joke even though she was pretty horrified to know that that thing had been sitting in her hair. It was so disgusting. She wondered how the Phantom managed to not walk straight into one. Maybe she was just used to them. Maybe she knew when to duck. What was she doing right now? Was she sleeping? She had looked a bit tired tonight, so maybe she’d chosen an early night. 

And maybe Emma was thinking a little too much about the Phantom’s whereabouts. She silently scolded herself while Lily was chitchatting. She was hanging out with her friend right now. She shouldn’t be thinking about the Phantom. She could do that later. She already knew she was gonna. For whatever reason, Emma had found herself thinking a lot about Regina in the late hours. After she had gone to bed and was waiting for sleep to find her. Those where the moments where she thought about Regina. Sometimes for far too long. Emma knew she probably shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help it. She was so intrigued about the Phantom who sometimes talked so much but at the same time never really said anything. She was so mysterious. Full of secrets, Emma was sure of that. But what secrets? What was the Phantom hiding-

“Hi, Mr. Gold!” Lily chirped suddenly, completely interrupting Emma’s train of thoughts. 

Emma looked up. It was indeed Mr. Gold who was coming down the hallway. He was walking with Mme. Carlotta, and the two of them had clearly been in the middle of a conversation. 

“Good evening miss Swan. Miss Drake,” he greeted in his usual sophisticated manner. 

“Are you guys talking about the masquerade ball?” Lily asked curiously. 

Mr. Gold smiled. “Perhaps we are, miss Page. And where might you two be off to?”

“Ruby’s room,” Lily replied with a grin. 

“Back in your rooms in an hour,” Mme. Carlotta said with that heavy French accent that always made her sound really stern.

“Yes, Mme. Carlotta,” both Emma and Lily said obediently. 

“I wish you a pleasant evening,” Mr. Gold said. “And I’m looking forward to hearing the rehearsal next Friday. Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Gold,” they both replied and stood for a moment and watched as Mr. Gold and Mme. Carlotta disappeared down the hallway.

Emma and Lily continued in the opposite direction, and it didn’t take long before they reached Ruby’s room. Lily briskly knocked on the door and jokingly said: “Knock-knock!”

“Who’s there?” came Ruby’s voice from inside the room. She laughed as she went along on the joke, and it took a moment before she was coherent enough to say: “Come in!”

Emma and Lily went inside her room. Ruby and Belle were sitting on the bed. Belle actually seemed to spend quite a lot of time in Ruby’s room, Emma realized, and it didn’t take long before she started wondering whether Ruby and Belle could be more than just friends. If they were, Emma found it to be sweet. They were a very good match. 

“There you are,” Ruby smiled as she greeted them. “You hadn’t gone to bed yet, Em?”

“No, of course not,” Emma said, once again feeling a slight twinge of disappointment about her early return from the lair. Usually, she was still there by now. But on the other hand, it was good that she   
had come back early tonight. Otherwise Lily would have found her room empty, and that would have brought on a series of questions about Emma’s whereabouts. Questions she’d had a very hard time answering. She and Lily got settled on the bed where Belle and Ruby were sitting. It didn’t take long before all four of them started chitchatting. Mostly about today’s rehearsal where Ruby once again had shone, but also about the masquerade ball to come. Emma was still grasping what a big deal it actually was. And how utterly unacceptable it would be if she were to try and bail. You didn’t NOT go to a masquerade ball at the Opera Garnier. You just didn’t. 

“I’m sure it’ll be lots of fun,” Ruby said and toyed slightly with her necklace. 

“Me, too!” Lily said excitedly. “And it’ll be my first! Emma’s too.” 

“What was it like?” Emma asked curiously. She needed more than the descriptions she could come up with. Which was ‘loud’ and ‘crowded’.

“Lavish,” Belle said dreamily. “Totally extravagant. You’ve literally never seen anything like it. Everything is so... over the top. But beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And there’s singing and dancing in the grand hall.”

“Wow,” Emma said and tried her best to sound excited and not like she mostly wanted to say no thanks. “That sounds really...” horrifying. People singing loudly and dancing and hiding under masks, so you had no way of seeing their facial expression? It sounded like everything Emma hated cooked into one big pot of nastiness. 

“I can’t wait,” Lily sighed. “A masquerade ball. It just sounds so... fairytale-like.”

“Hang on, don’t you have some pictures from the last masquerade party on your laptop, Rubes?” Belle asked and turned to the other brunette. 

“I sure do,” Ruby nodded and smiled at Emma and Lily. “You guys wanna see?”

“Yeah!” Lily said, returning the smile. “Absolutely!” 

Emma settled for a nod. 

“Okay, gimme two seconds,” Ruby said as she got up from the bed and walked over to her little desk in the corner. She snatched her laptop off the table and brought it back to the bed with her. She climbed back up into the bed and switched the laptop on. It didn’t take long before the screen lit up, and Ruby tapped in her password. “Alright, here we go,” she said as she turned the laptop around so   
Emma and Lily could see. She clicked on one of the folders on the desktop, and soon Emma saw a well of pictures appearing. Ruby clicked on the first one and grinned a bit. “Remember that, Belle?”

“Oh yeah,” Belle smiled. “I sure do. It was a great night.”

Emma smiled too as she looked at picture. It was of Ruby and Belle standing together. Belle was wearing a lavish yellow ballgown while Ruby’s costume was a red cloak and a wolf’s mask. 

“You guys look great,” Lily said. “I love the costumes!”

Ruby groaned. “Thanks, but the zipper in my costume actually got stuck by the end of the night. It took me like, a half an hour to get out of the fucking thing!” 

Belle laughed at her friend’s misfortune. ”And I’m pretty sure everyone in the dormitory heard you struggle, Rubes.”

“Shut up,” Ruby grumbled. “It was a shitty way to end the night!” she scrolled onwards, and Emma couldn’t help but chuckle when she saw a picture of Mal wearing an elaborate dress and a complicated dragon mask. 

“Why does that picture even exist?” Lily complained. 

“She looks nice,” Emma said. 

Lily stared at her. 

“What, she does!” Emma defended. “It’s a great costume.”

“She’s dressed as a DRAGON, Ems!” Lily groaned. “It’s embarrassing! It can never be anything but embarrassing.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ruby grinned as she showed off the next picture. Everyone in the room laughed when they looked at the image of Mme. Carlotta in a big, poofy dress and a ridiculous headpiece. 

“I think she had a bit too much to drink,” Ruby chuckled. 

Emma could see that. Mme. Carlotta’s eyes were a bit unfocused in the picture, and Emma chuckled again. It was amusing seeing their normally so ‘stiff’ teacher in such a situation. 

Ruby kept scrolling and she made Lily and Emma laugh with the anecdotes she could tell. It actually sounded like a really fun night where everyone had laughed a lot. 

“As long as my mom won’t come in a dragon-costume,” Lily grumbled. 

Belle chuckled. “She actually did look very nice. Fitted the part.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she did,” Lily said with an eyeroll and pointed to the screen. “Isn’t that Mr. Gold?!”

“Oh yeah, it is,” Ruby laughed as all four of them studied the image of Mr. Gold in some sort of furry cloak and a scary looking mask. 

“What is he even dressed as?” Emma asked and tilted her head. She didn’t really recognize the costume the owner of the Opera Garnier was wearing. 

“Rumplestiltskin, I think,” Belle replied. “The theme was fairy tale.”

“Oh,” Emma nodded. Yes, that made a lot of sense. 

“It really was a fun night with lots of-“ Ruby seemed to trail off when they reached the next picture. 

Emma immediately understood why. The picture was of Belle and Ruby herself, but in between them was a blonde girl. Christine. 

Emma instinctively leaned forward to study the picture. Christine was smiling brightly at the camera. She looked amazing in a dress that changed from shades of blue to pink. It almost reminded Emma of a sunset. The bodice of the dress was tight, but with many frills, lots of glittery beading and a mixture between blue and pink shades. The sleeves were blue and impressively poofy and almost falling down Christine’s shoulders. There had to be some invisible straps hiding underneath those poofy sleeves, Emma thought. Otherwise the dress would have slid right off. Where the bodice was tight, the skirt of the dress was lavish and poofy. Heavily layered. There had to be at least three petticoats underneath it, Emma thought to herself. She could almost hear how it rustled whenever Christine took a step. The petticoats seemed to be changing color from blue to pink as well. Long strands of beads embellished the skirt with stars that appeared to be shimmering even on the picture. Christine was holding one of those masks on a stick. A grey, glittery mask with shooting stars attached to it. She was wearing a matching grey tiara on her head that consisted of a half-moon shaped headpiece with little stars attached. Her boots were interesting to say the least. Tall, silvery blue boots that tied all the way up. Emma suspected that the boots would have looked silly on everyone else, but somehow, they looked just right on Christine. Her golden hair was arranged in an explosion of curls down her back. 

“She won the price for best costume that evening,” Ruby almost sighed. 

“It’s obvious why,” Emma said softly. “She looks wonderful.”

“The Star-Princess costume,” Belle sighed. “I still remember that like it was yesterday. I doubt there’ll ever be a costume like that one again.”

“There won’t,” Ruby said firmly. “But it wasn’t just the costume. Christine was.... She was so happy that night. Radiant. Excited about her role in the upcoming play.”

Emma swallowed something. “How long was it before she was...” she couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Two weeks,” Ruby said quietly. “Alive and happy and dancing one night, and then bam, two weeks after she was just gone!”

“Ruby,” Belle gently soothed. 

“Sorry,” Ruby said quickly. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I just get so...”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Lily said and flashed Ruby a smile. “She was your friend. Of course you still miss her.”

“We don’t have to look anymore at the picture if it makes you upset,” Emma added. 

Ruby flashed her a grateful smile and then scrolled onwards. She kept telling funny stories, but she didn’t linger too long when there was a picture of Christine. And there were many of her. Many of her   
dancing. Many of her laughing. Many of her being a vibrant young woman having the time of her life. The more Emma saw, the more upset she got that there were rumors that Christine had committed suicide. No one could fake the smile Christine had been sporting that night. No one could fake being that happy. It just couldn’t be. Emma refused to believe it. 

“Oh god, there’s mom again,” Lily groaned. “Please scroll past it, Ruby!”

“Really?” Ruby teased. “You sure you don’t wanna hear about how she scared a couple of the new choir members by roaring like a dragon?”

“She did that?” Emma giggled. She actually could imagine Mal doing something like that. 

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Lily protested. “Please keep scrolling! My sanity is at stake here!”

“Well, in that case, we better...” Ruby chuckled as she scrolled away from the picture. The next one was a close up of the chandelier.

“Were you drunk when you took that?” Belle teased. “It’s a bit blurry.”

“No!” Ruby huffed. “You damn well know that I was not! I just wanted to snap a picture of the chandelier, that’s all!”

“Right then...”

“It’s true!” Ruby snipped. “And I’m gonna find a different picture now!” so she did. The next picture was one of the large hall. Ruby had clearly attempted to take a selfie with everyone behind her. She had only partially succeeded, and Belle teased her about it. “It totally looks like you’re drunk. You look a bit too happy.”

“Shut up, I do not!” Ruby protested, but laughing at the same time. “I was just trying to take an Oscar worthy selfie, that’s all!”

“Well, you totally failed!” 

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did!”

“I did not, Belle! It’s an epic picture! Why else would it have gotten over three hundred likes on Instagram?”

“I dunno, maybe because they felt sorry for you or something?” Belle suggested while laughing. She clearly found it very amusing to rile up her friend/something more. 

So did Lily. She joined the teasing and laughed along with Belle when Ruby tried to defend herself. 

“You guys suck,” she grumbled. “It’s not that bad of a picture!”

“It kinda is though,” Belle said in that particular Australian accent. 

“It isn’t! Emma, tell them,” Ruby joked. 

“I think it’s a nice picture,” Emma said. It wasn’t that bad. Perhaps a bit blurry some places, but it looked good with the chandelier and all the party-clad people in the background.

“See!” Ruby said triumphantly. “It’s a great picture!”

“Okay, okay,” Belle surrendered. “It’s not that bad.”

“But where’s your wolf mask?” Lily chirped in. “You were wearing one in the other pictures.”

“Someone took it,” Ruby said with an eyeroll. 

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Someone did that?”

“Oh yeah,” Belle chuckled. “I remembered that we looked for it for almost an hour. Isn’t that right, Rubes?”

“It was actually a pretty expensive mask,” Ruby defended. “My grandmother made it, so obviously I was irritated that some asshole had nicked it!”

“Pretty understandable,” Lily said. “I would have been pissed too.”

“Let’s hope there won’t be any lost masks this time around,” Belle said and shifted a bit on the bed. “Have any of you thought about what you’re going as yet?”

“Isn’t that way too early?” Lily frowned. “I mean, it’s still six months away.”

“Never too early to start,” Ruby shrugged. “I want to be really creative this year. No more red riding hood.”

“It suited you, though,” Belle smiled. 

“It really did,” Lily chirped in. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ruby said firmly. “This year I wanna be over the top! The bigger the better.”

“That’s what she said,” Lily said with a cheeky grin painted on her face. She was immediately met by a roar of laughter from Ruby and Belle. Ruby shook her head while Belle claimed that making bad jokes   
had to be against some sort of rules.

But Emma found herself to be zoning out as she looked at the picture. Ruby in front, and everyone behind her. None of them seemed to have noticed that she was taking a picture. Everyone was just minding their own business and not looking at the camera at all. Emma squinted slightly behind her glasses as she took a more throughout look at the image. She could see Mr. Gold and Mme. Carlotta and Mal and a couple of the other teachers. She could see Belle and other of the older students. And there, in the very corner of the picture, she could see Christine. The blue-pink, poofy dress was recognizable anywhere. But who was that standing next to her? Emma instinctively leaned a bit closer to the screen. Christine was sort of standing with her side to the camera, talking to someone. The person she was talking to, unfortunately had their back to the camera, so it was impossible to see a face. But Emma could see a red dress and cloak, most likely made of velvet. And raven-black hair hanging in soft curls down the woman’s back. There was only one person with hair like that.

Emma’s stomach did this odd flipflop as she stared herself blind at the picture. Was it possible... Could it be.... it shouldn’t have been. It should have been completely impossible. But to Emma, it very much looked like the Phantom of the Opera had been attending the masquerade ball. Yes. Emma was sure that Ruby had caught Regina on the picture. She was right there. Hiding in plain sight in front of everyone. Emma squinted again as she studied the picture. Christine looked pretty relaxed. Not afraid or shocked in anyway. She had to be in on it. She had to have known that the Phantom would be there. Was it something she and Regina had arranged? Emma had so many questions. And she wasn’t planning on keeping quiet about this one. The next time she saw the Phantom she would straight up ask her if she had been attending the masquerade ball. And if so, how she had managed to do it without getting caught or seen by anyone except Christine. She was the only one who had known about the Phantom. 

Emma’s stomach did another flipflop, but this time it had nothing to do with the excitement of discovering something. It was more the knowledge that someone had known about Regina before she had. 

Emma almost scoffed. What was she even thinking? Where was that even coming from? It had to be the frustration of never being told anything by the Phantom. Was that what it had been like for Christine? Had the Phantom been secretive with her too? Probably. Emma doubted that Regina had spilled all her secrets to Christine the first time she met her.

And so what if she had? Why was the even important?

It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. 

“Em? Emma Marie Swan?”

“Hmm?” Emma quickly looked away from the picture on the screen. “Oh, sorry. I was just zoning out for a moment there.”

“You looked completely stoned,” Ruby teased good-naturedly. “Are we that boring?”

“No,” Emma chuckled. “Of course not.”

“Can we see some more pictures now?” Lily asked. 

Ruby was more than on board with that idea. The picture-show-and-tell continued, but Emma was distracted now. Couldn’t stop thinking about the picture she had just seen. Of Christine and the Phantom standing barely hidden in the corner. How had Regina managed to not get caught that night? Had she simply blended in with the crowd? There had been a lot of masks that night. Blending in wouldn’t have been the hardest job in the world. But still, what a risk! Anyone could have found out that she was there. Whose idea had it been? The Phantom’s or Christine’s? It didn’t seem like a thing Regina would do. Actually, it seemed like the last thing she would do. It couldn’t be her idea. It must have been Christine’s. But why had Regina said yes? How had Christine managed to... convince her? It sounded ridiculous. Surely, the Phantom of the Opera couldn’t be convinced or coaxed into doing anything? Emma didn’t understand. She needed Regina to fill in the blanks for her. Another impossible scenario, Emma thought half-bitterly to herself. But that certainly would not stop her from trying. She was too curious to simply let this go. She had to know more. Needed to know more. 

Emma discreetly shook her head. It was like these random information kept popping up in the most unexpected places. It added more pieces to the puzzle, but she still couldn’t see the completely picture. Unfortunately. But would she ever be able to? Would she ever solve the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera and her mysterious friendship with Christine Daaé?

The door to Ruby’s room opened unexpectedly, and Mme. Carlotta popped her head in. “It’s time for lights out,” she said half-sternly. 

Ruby made a face. “Already?”

“You know the rules Mademoiselle Lucas.”

Ruby quickly abandoned ship. Anyone would have done that when faced with Mme. Carlotta’s French sternness. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “I do.”

“Come along, Mademoiselle Drake and Mademoiselle Swan,” Mme. Carlotta said a tad impatiently as she gestured for Emma and Lily to get up. 

Of course, Emma and Lily had n choice but to follow Mme. Carlotta, and they wished Ruby a good night. 

“You too, mademoiselle French,” Mme. Carlotta said to Belle. “Rules are rules.”

“Yes, Mme. Carlotta.”

Emma and Lily let themselves be escorted back by Mme. Carlotta, and Lily clearly had trouble keeping a straight face. Perhaps it was the picture of Mme. Carlotta at the masquerade ball that was still haunting her. 

Emma was actually pretty satisfied with being back in her room. Even though the ‘party’ had been cut short, she didn’t actually mind it. She had been getting a bit sleepy, and it felt good to change out of her white chorus dress and into her comfortable, blue pajamas. It felt good to loosen the ponytail and brush her hair thoroughly. And it felt good to tie it back in a loose braid instead. 

She hoped that she would be able to sleep tonight. She had already decided that she wasn’t gonna think about anything before falling asleep. Not even that picture she had seen. She wouldn’t wonder how on earth Regina managed to be at the masquerade ball without anyone noticing it. Well, except for Christine that was. 

No, Emma wasn’t gonna think about that. Even though it baffled her. To think that Ruby had snapped a picture of the Phantom of the Opera without even realizing it. To think that Christine actually had been standing there and talking to the Phantom. In plain sight. Hadn’t she cared that Regina could have been caught? Had Regina perhaps come close to being caught? Had she and Christine argued because it had been Christine’s idea? Christine had been found dead only two weeks after the masquerade ball, so maybe....

No! Emma almost aggressively spat toothpaste into the sink. Regina had NOTHING to do with what had happened to Christine. They had been friends, the Phantom and Christine. You didn’t just go around and murder your friends. Regina was innocent. Everything in Emma’s gut told her so. She rinsed her mouth and then went on to rinse her face before bedtime as she always did. It felt weird, knowing that Christine had died only two weeks after the masquerade ball. What could possibly have happened in those two weeks? Not suicide. Not the Phantom. Something else. But what? 

Emma concluded the rinsing of her face, but that was pretty much the only thing she concluded before leaving the bedroom and slipping into bed. As from now on, she was going to think about something else. Something that wouldn’t keep her awake for hours. She pulled the covers up to her chest, closed her eyes and then waited for sleep to come and claim her. Wiggled a bit in the bed while waiting. Maybe she could count sheep or something. That usually worked, right? 

“One,” Emma counted. “Two. Three.” She already felt a bit ridiculous. “Four, five. Six, seven. Eight, nine, ten.” But maybe it would actually work. If she concentrated hard enough, Emma could see those stupid sheep jumping over fences, and she was actually starting to feel more and more sleepy. Just thinking about sheep. And not about the masked woman in the underground lair. Nu-uh. Nor was she thinking about Ruby’s accidental snapshot of Regina. No, sir. Not that either. Definitely not. She was just.... thinking about sheep before bedtime. Emma laughed a little to herself in the darkness. And her last thought before falling asleep was how utterly ridiculous that was....

Emma woke. Disgruntled and unwilling to get out of bed. But with no other option. The intense pressure on her bladder was preventing her from going back to sleep even though it was the middle of the night and there was nothing she’d rather do. With something between a moan and a groan, Emma got out of bed and stalked into the bathroom to relieve herself. She couldn’t wait to go back to bed. She had been in the middle of a very nice dream involving herself laying on a bed of flowers. It had been such a good dream, and she couldn’t wait to (hopefully) be transported back to the world she just left. 

Once relieved, Emma wobbled back to her little bedroom. She had every intention of slipping right back to bed and falling asleep before her head hit the pillow. 

But the universe had other plans for her. When Emma passed the mirror, she immediately noticed the little note attached to the glass. All thoughts about sleep or even feeling tired mysteriously vanished from Emma’s mind. She was a hundred percent awake and alert as she grabbed her glasses from the bedside table and slipped them on. The world stopped blurring. Now she could actually see. See that the clock radio showed three fifteen in the morning. But what did that matter? 

Emma walked back to the mirror and grabbed the little note sitting attached to it. She blinked a couple of times and squinted to read what had been written on the note: ‘Bring me a couple of aspirins when you come tomorrow night.’ Emma pursed her lips. She knew that Regina had acted a bit different tonight, and maybe she was holding the explanation in her hand. She was sick. Emma always took aspirin when she had a headache, so maybe that was what was troubling Regina too? 

Emma weighed the note in her hand. ‘Bring me a couple of aspirins when you come tomorrow night’. That was a long time to wait if you had a headache or a fever. And she was awake right now. It didn’t make sense to wait until tomorrow night. And especially not if Regina really was sick in that damp and slightly cold lair. 

Emma made a quick decision. She smoothened a hand over her slightly frizzy hair, threw a bathrobe over her pajamas and then opened the bedside drawer and found her bottle of aspirin. She popped the lid off and let two of the little white tablets slide into her hand. Then she walked back to the mirror and pushed it aside. She didn’t care that it was in the middle of the night. Regina had been here. And she had to be in pretty much pain to go through the trouble of leaving Emma a note on the mirror. 

Emma went through the opening and pushed the mirror back. Regina had been in her room, and she was so disappointed over having missed out on the opportunity to see her. She didn’t know how long it had been since Regina had left that note on the mirror, nor did she know how Regina would react when Emma suddenly showed up in the middle of the night. But, Emma thought to herself as she began walking through the passage. She would find out soon enough........

The lair was so quiet when Emma stepped inside. No music coming from the piano. No rustling when Regina moved around in that long cloak of hers. Emma looked around in the faint light from the candle lights. She couldn’t see anyone. But surely Regina had to be here somewhere, right? Perhaps she was curled up under those blankets in the corner of the room. 

But walking closer, Emma saw no figure laying under the blankets. So maybe Regina was out on a nightly walk or something. She sometimes did that. She had mentioned that to Emma at some point. 

Emma decided that she would leave the two aspirins a place where she was sure Regina would find them. And then she would leave again. Slip back through the secret passage like a ghost in the night. 

Maybe Regina would mention it tomorrow night. Perhaps she would even be grateful and... and happy. Yes. Emma wanted to make Regina happy. She wasn’t completely sure why, but she did. More than anything. 

But her decision about leaving the medicine for the Phantom and then be on her way immediately wobbled when she spotted something laying on the hard stone floor. Taking a closer look, Emma could see that it was the diary. Christine’s diary. Emma faltered. That diary had gotten her in an awful lot of trouble the last time she had dared peeking in it. But how was she supposed to resist when it was just laying there? It was even splayed open. How could Emma NOT take a teeny tiny look in it? Regina wasn’t here. This time Emma was sure. Otherwise she would have seen her. Or heard her. 

Even though it probably was a mistake, Emma crouched down next to the diary and tilted her head slightly. Then she began reading quietly out loud:

‘November 30th, 2016.

The Phantom likes to tease me. Mainly with my Swedish accent and the way I say certain words, but it seems that she has something new to tease me about every time I come to see her,” Emma snorted quietly. Yes, that sounded very much like Regina. she cleared her throat and kept going: “Tonight it was my middle name of all things,” Emma read aloud. “For some reason, she found it to be very funny that my full name is Christine Charlotte Daaé. It was especially the way I pronounced ‘Charlotte’ that seemed to amuse her. She even came up with a nick name. “Little Lotte” she called me and laughed. I think she was trying to irritate me, but I actually liked it. No one has ever called me Little Lotte before, and while it could sound like she was mocking me, it didn’t feel like it. It felt kinda nice, to be perfectly honest.’ 

Emma frowned. She wasn’t so sure she would have liked being called ‘Little Lotte’. It sounded a little too demeaning for her taste. But Christine had seemingly liked it. And she had written more in the diary. Emma quietly began reading to herself again: 

‘-The Phantom even came up with a little saying. A sort of poem about Little Lotte. She probably only made the saying to tease me, but I really liked it too, so I wanna put it here in my diary. I’m not sure I can remember it word for word, but I’ll do my best:

Little Lotte let her mind wander;  
Little Lotte thought:  
Am I fonder of dolls... or of goblins or shoes?   
Or of riddles or frocks?  
Or her picnics in the attic while her father played the violin, and she read to herself, dark stories of the North-

“No, what I love best, Lotte said....” Regina’s melodic voice suddenly sang from the room behind the curtain and scared Emma half to death. “Is when I’m asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head...”

Emma let out a gasp and her heart started pounding in her chest. Regina had heard her read in Christine’s diary. Now she would get mad at her again!

“The Angel of Music sings songs in my head...” Regina sang again and then chuckled darkly to herself. There was a slight rustling, and then her voice called out again: “Why don’t you come in here instead? It’s not polite to hide, Little Swan...”

Emma bowed her head and dragged her feet across the stone floor as she shuffled towards the room behind the curtain. She was certain she would be yelled at in a moment. And Regina had every right to.   
Once again, Emma had snooped through something that didn’t belong to her. 

But Regina looked surprisingly calm when Emma came into the room behind the curtain. She was half sitting, half laying in the boat with her black feather cloak tugged over her, the white half-mask in place even though she had been sleeping. “Twice in one night, Little Swan,” she drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Uhm...” Emma was confused. Wasn’t Regina angry with her for snooping? Was this some kind of elaborate trap? Or was Regina simply too tired to get angry? What was going on?

“What do you want?” Regina asked lazily and without making any attempts at getting out of the boat. Or yelling. She even looked a bit amused as she looked at Emma. 

And now Emma was suddenly painful aware of her pajamas-and-bathrobe-outfit. And her mussed up hair.

"What?" Regina asked again. A bit more demanding now.

“I’ve brought you aspirin,” Emma said and opened her palm. “You left that note on the mirror-“

“And you decided to pop by in the middle of the night?” Regina said dryly. 

“Yeah?” Emma said and licked her lips nervously. “I figured that-“

“Well, you figured correctly,” Regina interrupted. “Give me the medicine.” 

Emma shuffled closer to the boat and dropped the two little white pills in Regina’s palms. Their hands briefly touched, and Emma noted how warm Regina’s hand felt. Was she running a fever? 

“And the bottle of water,” Regina continued, nodding towards a water bottle standing on the floor. 

Emma quickly crouched down and grabbed the bottle of water. She handed it to Regina, and Regina uncapped it and downed the two little white pills with lots of water. She didn’t say thank you afterwards. She simply wiped the corners of her mouth lazily with her hand. 

“Are you sick?” Emma asked spontaneously. 

Regina laughed. “No. I just have a headache. You can go now.”

But Emma didn’t wanna leave. Not quite yet. “Are you... Are you not mad at me?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to be ‘mad’ at you?”

“I read in the diary!” Emma said confused. 

“Yes. I heard that.” Regina said dryly. 

“And you’re not mad at me?”

“Perhaps I would have been if you had continue reading,” Regina said. “But reading a simple poem out loud isn’t enough to faze me. At least not tonight.” she adjusted a bit in the boat and closed her eyes again. “Goodbye.”

But Emma still didn’t want to leave. She remembered what she had vowed earlier. To get answers. And now the option do to that was literally staring her in the face. “Can I... Can I ask you something?” she said quietly. 

Regina didn’t open her eyes. She barely reacted. Just said: “seems like you’re already doing that.”

Emma grasped the opportunity: “did you and... and Christine ever go to a masquerade party? Uhm... together.”

Now Regina opened her eyes. Even sat up in the boat so quickly, the feather cloak slid off and revealed the black nightgown she was wearing underneath. “Who knows that?!” she snarled. “Who told you that?!”

“N-no one!” Emma said quickly. 

Regina narrowed her eyes. “Then how do you know?!”

“A- a picture,” Emma stuttered. “My friend Ruby has taken a picture where Christine is standing in the corner and talking to someone. Your face isn’t on the picture, you’re standing with your back to the camera, but I think I recognized your... hair.” She took a breath, fully realizing that she was rambling. 

“Oh.” Regina seemed calm again all the sudden. “I do hope the picture miss Lucas took is blurry.”

“You know Ruby?” it slipped out of Emma. 

“I know ABOUT her,” Regina corrected. “Christine spoke of her a few times. Now, is that picture blurry or not?!”

“It’s very blurry,” Emma said quickly. “And it’s impossible to see that it’s you.”

Regina let out something between a sigh and a scoff. “Well, you have your answer, Little Swan. It’s me in the picture. Satisfied?”

No, Emma was not satisfied. “Why are you there? At the masquerade ball?”

“Because I was asked to.”

“By Christine?”

“Yes.”

“And you just said yes?”

“Yes.” 

“Just... like that?”

“No,” Regina half-snipped. “I can assure you, it wasn’t that easy. But Christine begged me to show up for at least a little while. So I did.” 

“And no one noticed you?” 

Regina smiled a bit sinisterly at her. “There were many masks that night, Little Swan. No one noticed an extra one. And I didn’t stay for very long. Nor did Christine. But I assume miss Lucas has forgotten that because she was too busy drinking from the ‘secret’ bottle some of her friends had brought to the ball.” 

Okay, that was a teeny tiny detail Ruby hadn’t mentioned. But Regina knew. For some reason. “Did you and Christine go back to this place?” Emma asked. Now she couldn’t stop asking questions. Not when the Phantom was actually answering her!

“No,” Regina said. “We went upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Emma repeated, tilting her head in curiosity once more. 

“Yes.” Regina said, voice dropping an octave or two. “Christine wanted me to see her room. She was tired of dancing, tired of receiving compliments for her costume.” A dark chuckle. “A Star Princess if there ever was one.” She brushed a lock of dark hair away from her face. “And since everyone was partying downstairs, it was the perfect moment to go upstairs and... stay for a while...” she trailed off, and to her utmost surprise, Emma saw a genuine and slightly dreamy smile blossom on Regina’s lips. It wasn’t very often the Phantom smiled, and now Emma thought to herself that the other woman really was quite pretty when she smiled. Mask or not, one could still see the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. 

“But that was then, and this is now,” Regina’s voice sharply cut through the brief moment of silence. “And right now, you’re still standing in the middle of my lair and disturbing my sleep.”

“Oh,” Emma said sheepishly. “Yeah. I’m... I’m sorry.”

“Go to bed,” Regina said simply. “And don’t come back until tomorrow night.” 

Emma obediently turned around and trotted back through the lair. She had almost made it back to the dark passage when she heard Regina call out to her: “Little Swan?”

“Yes?”

“Do not touch that diary again.”

Emma bowed her head, chastened. “I won’t. I’m sorry.” She had expected that to be the end of it, but to her surprise, Regina kept talking: 

“There’s a story there,” she continued lowly, quietly, and not particularly angry. “Christine Daaé’s. And to some extent, mine. Christine is not here to give you permission to read her diary, but I am. Parts of my life and my story is there as well. It blends with Christine’s story. And I don’t give you consent to read that diary. Not yet.” 

Emma immediately picked up on it. “Not yet?” she quietly repeated. 

“Not yet,” Regina echoed. “But perhaps someday. When I’m ready for you to know everything. And when you’re ready.” 

“What does that even-“

“It means that question time is over with,” Regina interrupted, voice sharp and hard and recognizable now. “Get out of here.”

“Okay,” Emma mumbled. “Okay, I will. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, little Swan.”

Without another word, Emma took off and left the lair again. And while she might have gotten a few answers, she had now even more questions than before....

To Be Continued...........


	21. Homage To Music

A month passed by in a flash, and Emma felt as though the secret she was harboring was growing bigger witch each day passing by. But the odd thing was that it didn’t bother her. Quite the reverse. 

Emma had started to experience a certain thrill every time she snuck upstairs to slip through the secret gate away behind the mirror. She had started to feel this tingling sensation in her belly every time she nicked food in the canteen and stuffed it into her schoolbag, and even though sneaking around was a bad thing to do, Emma had turned it into a game. It was like a game for her. See how many people she could disappear in front. And she always felt utterly triumphant when she succeeded. She was oddly addicted to it. Slipping upstairs with her schoolbag full of stolen food. And she was addicted to the lessons she had with the Phantom. Sometimes Regina was sort of forthcoming and asked Emma questions. Mostly about her classes and how her life had been back home in Storybrooke. 

But on most occasions, Regina wasn’t very talkative, and the only thing she said to Emma was ‘sing’. And so Emma did. Sometimes Regina said nothing once Emma was done, and on other occasions, she had about five million complains to Emma. Sometimes the lesson ended with Regina singing. And that was what Emma appreciated the most. When she did sing, Regina always did it right before Emma was about to leave the lair. Her singing always left Emma breathless and yearning for more, but it always felt like Regina never gave her enough singing wise. But of course Emma wasn’t dumb enough to beg her to sing more. She knew Regina never would respond to it. 

Emma hadn’t touched Christine’s diary again. She hadn’t even mentioned it. Often the diary would lie open and spine up when Emma stepped into the lair, Regina clearly often read it, but Emma always stopped herself from asking about it. Christine Daaé was a banned subject in the Phantom’s lair. But that didn’t stop Emma from quietly poking around outside the lair. She went online and googled. Of course there had been some news articles about the ‘tragic suicide at prestigious opera house’. Suicide. Few of them stressed out that Christine Daaé had been depressed after her father’s death. The majority of the articles described it as suicide, but there was also a few of them calling it a “mysterious death of young choir member’ and had suggested foul play. The opera house had been shut down for three weeks while the investigation went on, but no had ever been arrested in the case, and as far as Emma could see, it had been ruled out as a suicide. That confused Emma. How could it have been ruled as a suicide when Ruby insisted that it wasn’t? When REGINA insisted that it wasn’t? It didn’t add up. There was something fishy about it. Why was it so easy to rule it as a suicide when Christine hadn’t been suicidal? As Regina had said, she had been on her way to great things. A promising young soprano wouldn’t just go and kill herself like that. It didn’t make any sense. 

The ‘investigation’ left Emma stumped, but she was going to continue no matter what. She had told Regina that she wanted to help, and she was going to. Next step would be to ask Ruby questions about Christine. She had been Christine’s friend, so if anyone knew her, it had to be Ruby, but Emma was still trying to figure out how she best could breach the subject without raising suspicion. She had to be delicate. Couldn’t just blurt out ‘how-when-where-why’-questions. Just one wrong remark, and Ruby could end up figure everything out. She could discover that Regina was in the underground lair. And that could never ever happen. Emma knew she had to be more than careful in her ‘investigation’. If only she could get a second look at Christine’s diary. Perhaps there was hidden clues in it. Clues that Regina might have missed. At least that was the excuse Emma used in her head when thinking about wanting to read Christine’s diary. Deep down, she was insanely curious to find out more about the mysterious teacher-student/friendship between the Phantom and Christine. A deep friendship that had been. Deep enough for Regina to give Christine a pet name. Little Lotte. Emma had thought a lot about that. Probably more than she should have. And she had dreamed too. Dreamed about the Phantom. Strange and distorted dreams that didn’t make sense but still left her feeling awkward when she woke up. 

Sometimes Emma worried that she was getting tunnel vision. Meaning that her lessons with Mme. Carlotta and Malena felt less... important. She felt like she was learning so much more when the Phantom taught her. Even though Regina mostly offered criticism, Emma still felt like these were the best lessons she’d ever had. Singing in front of Regina wasn’t as daunting as singing in the choir could be, because Regina rarely looked at her. Sometimes the other woman would stare at the wall while Emma sang. Or at her hands. Sometimes she would run a hairbrush through her dark locks. It was bordering on disinterest, and sometimes, when Emma was in a particular weird mood, that annoyed her. A small, childish part of her wanted Regina’s undivided attention, but when she finally had it, when Regina was actually looking at her, Emma got nervous and had to turn around and stare at the wall while singing. Regina always laughed at her when she did that. Not a particularly nice laughter. It was like she was trying to challenge Emma. Like she was trying to force some kind of reaction out of her, but Emma refused to be challenged. She refused to get upset, and sometimes she wondered why Regina seemed so interested in pushing her. That shouldn’t be necessary. Emma didn’t want to be upset while in the Phantom’s Lair. She had just come to sing and spend some time with the Phantom. That was all. 

Emma awoke early that morning. She got out of bed. She showered, got dressed, sorted out her hair and then went downstairs to the canteen to have breakfast as usual. She met up with Lily and Ruby and Belle, Killian and Anna, another shy first year student who officially had become part of their ‘group’ over the past month. Anna was a nice girl. Very quiet, but an excellent singer. Emma was glad she had become a part of their group, but she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Killian. Sure, he was nice enough and all that, but sometimes he just looked at her a little too long. Emma hoped that wouldn’t turn into a problem. It finally seemed as though Lily’s crush on her had gone away, and the last thing Emma needed, was more unwanted attention. 

But there was no unwanted attention this morning when Emma came to sit with her friends. There was only a Malena who cleared her throat and then sternly called everyone’s attention.

“I’m well aware that we don’t normally have morning meetings here,” she said tightly. “And I’ll let everyone resume their breakfast in a moment. But first I’m afraid I have a very serious matter to discuss with all of you.” She looked down at all the students. Her blue eyes gleamed dangerously. “During a count earlier this morning, it was discover that a bottle of wine has been stolen from the kitchen.”

A faint muttering erupted, and Emma glanced around at her friends and other students. 

“As all of you know, consuming alcohol is NOT allowed on this school,” Mal continued, sounding more stern than ever. “While there may have been slips regarding this amongst the older students...” her gaze seemed to linger a bit longer on the older students. “Breaking this rule is a most serious matter, and I would strongly advise the person behind the theft to come forward. Now.”

The silence in the canteen was deafening. Everyone eyed each other suspiciously. Emma too looked around. She tried not to suspect anyone, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Who would have stolen a bottle of wine? 

“No? Not anyone willing to step up and admit to have stolen the bottle of wine?” Malena said. “I can’t say this comes as a surprise to me, but I will tell you that I’m very disappointed. I’m afraid this means that every students room will be searched.”

More muttering. 

“I fully understand why this comes as an inconvenience to those of you who had nothing to do with this,” Malena continued. “But we do need to come to the bottom of this. I had hoped that someone would come forward and admit. Perhaps taking the bottle of wine was part of a dare, or a prank that got out of hand...” she held it for a beat, and it was obvious that she really was trying to give the culprit a second chance to come forward. When no one did, she sighed gravely. “However, seeing that no one has come forward, we have no other choice than to view this as a deliberate act of thievery, and there will be very serious consequences for the person responsible for this. That’ll be all. You can continue your breakfast now.”

The chit-chatter began anew, and it didn’t take long before Lily leaned forward and said: “holy crap!”

“I know,” Emma nodded. 

“Who’d be dumb enough to steal a bottle of wine?” Lily continued. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I mean, seriously! This is the Opera Garnier. Who’d be willing to risk getting kicked out for a bottle of wine?!” Lily shook her head. 

“Maybe it wasn’t a student,” Killian shrugged. 

Emma scoffed. “Are you saying that a teacher-“

“Nah, but what about that maintain guy? Err, what’s-his-face-“

“Joseph Bouquet?” Ruby asked a tad skeptically. 

“Yeah, that’s the one. Doesn’t he seem the type who likes having a drink once in a while?”

Emma didn’t like gossip, but she quietly agreed with Killian. It was pretty much an open secret that Joseph Bouquet, the spare-janitor who stepped in when Maurice was unavailable, liked a drink. You could just tell when you looked at him. His gaze swam when you looked at him. 

“I bet it was him!” Killian continued. 

“We don’t know anything about that,” Emma said without fully knowing why she was defending Joseph Bouquet. She didn’t like him. Not really. He always seemed to leer when he looked at you. Or so it felt to Emma. But maybe she was just being silly. “It could have been one of the older students,” she continued. “Maybe one of them got bored or something like that.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” Ruby joked. 

Lily and Belle snickered. 

“But even if it was someone who was bored,” Emma said. “I still think it was a stupid thing to do. I mean, they could potentially get kicked out for it!”

“I’m sure they’ll find out who it is,” Lily said firmly. “You know mom. She’s like a bloodhound!”

Emma had to snicker too. “That’s true. She is.”

“If anyone is hiding alcohol in their room, she’ll find out,” Lily continued. 

“I still say it was Bouquet,” Killian mumbled. 

“Maybe it was,” Ruby said with a shrug. “And maybe it wasn’t. Either way, whoever it was is gonna be in a lot of trouble!”

Everyone present at the table quickly agreed to that. Emma glanced around in an attempt to see if there was anyone who looked particularly guilty. 

But despite the teachers best effort, and the fact that every last room was searched that morning, the bottle of alcohol didn’t resurface, and the culprit was never revealed. Killian joked that whoever did it probably had drunken the alcohol already and was insanely drunk, but Malena who had overheard the joke didn’t find it funny. This was a serious matter, not a laughing matter, and she was quite snappy during todays lesson. Her frostiness was hanging in the air like a dark cloud, and Emma caught herself shivering several times. 

“Again!” she snapped. “Several of you are out of tact! From the beginning!”

And so everyone sang. Emma with some hesitation. This snappy Mal made her feel unsure. If only that bottle of wine could be found. Again, Emma thought to herself that it was unbelievably stupid to steal alcohol here. 

Malena was not at all happy when they were done singing. “What is the matter with you today?” she asked tiredly. “Why are you so unconcentrated?”

“Maybe because our rooms are being searched!” Elsa boldly spoke up from somewhere in the front row. Emma heard Anna groan and mutter: “Elsa!” in a sort of exasperated, embarrassed way. 

“Do you have anything to hide in your room, miss Frost?” Malena asked dangerously. 

“I... No,” Elsa mumbled, chastened and bowed her head again. 

“Then I suggest you do not complain about the procedure,” Malena snapped. “The only thing we’re looking for, is that bottle of wine. Empty or unemptied. Anything else is of no interest to us. Now from the beginning of the aria!”

Everyone started singing once more. A piece from “The Magic Flute” today, and even though it sounded nice, Emma could sense that everyone were a bit unfocused. Including herself. She was thinking more about the stolen bottle of wine than she was thinking about singing. And Lily clearly felt the same. While singing, she turned her head and did a grimace at Emma where she scrunched up her nose, clearly to indicate that her mom was in an awful mood.

Emma nodded very slightly. That was the only thing she dared doing when Malena was in such a mood. But she actually felt a bit sorry for Malena and the rest of the teachers. Consuming alcohol was one of the major no-no’s in the Opera Garnier, and the idea that a student had deliberately broken that rule was terrible. Emma knew that she technically had broken this rule on her first day when Ruby offered her a sip from that bottle, but it mostly been water, so it wasn’t like she had poured alcohol down her throat. And she certainly would NEVER steal a bottle of wine! Not ever! Seriously, which student could be that stupid? It was only a matter of time before they would be caught. Emma was sure of that. You couldn’t get away with nicking a whole bottle of wine here. That was impossible.

“Again!” Malena snapped when they finished the piece. “The harmony is completely off, and I have a feeling that the problem is in the back row!”

Emma automatically ducked her head. 

“I would like for all of you to please concentrate!” Malena said tightly. “You’ve sung this piece many, many times. You know the words and the pacing, so really, I’m not asking that much of you. Miss Lucas!”

“Yes, Malena?” Ruby said politely. 

“Please sing ‘The Queen of the Night’ again. I believe the choir needs a break!” Malena said. 

Ruby cleared her throat and then began to sing: “’The vengeance of Hell boils in my heart, death and despair flame about me! If Sarastro does not through you feel, the pain of death. Then you will be my daughter nevermore. Disowned may you be forever, alone may you be forever-“

“No!” Malena interrupted. “No, no, no! It’s ‘abandoned may you be forever’, miss Lucas! Not ‘alone may you be forever’.”

“Oh,” Ruby said sheepishly, and Emma could see her flushing. “That’s right. I’m... I’m sorry, Malena.”

“Sorry isn’t always gonna cut it, miss Lucas,” Mal said exasperated. “Perhaps it is okay to mess up the lyrics during a rehearsal, but what would you have done if this had been the grand performance for all the parents, hmm? One wrong or missed lyric is enough to ruin a whole performance! I’ve told all of you this a million times already, and I certainly expect you to-“

THUMP!!!

Emma yelped, and she wasn’t the only one! Some yelled and cried out in pure shock, and Lily loudly yelled: “mom!” when the front curtain suddenly came down to land hard on the floor with a loud crash! Merely inches from where Malena had been standing a moment ago. Had she not moved when she did, she surely would have been hit by the heavy curtain. 

“What on earth?!” Malena exclaimed, head whipping up to look at the point where the front curtain had fallen from. 

Emma could see that the shock had rattled Malena. Her mentor looked rather bewildered, and perhaps even a tad afraid before sobering up and scolding her features into something more annoyed. 

“Bouquet! What the hell is going up there?!”

Joseph Bouquet appeared on the bridge above them. Face red and annoyed and greasy grey hair hanging down his eyes. “Do not look at me, Madame Drake!” he huffed. “I was at my post!”

“If you were at your post, how do you explain THAT?” Malena asked and gestured angrily at the heavy curtain on the floor. “What were you doing?! Do you have someone up there with you?!” Joseph Bouquet was notoriously known for inviting his girlfriend up on the bridge with him. He had come close to being fired for it twice, but so far, he had dodged every single bullet. And only because he was friends with Mr. Gold. 

“Please, Madame, there’s no one there!” Joseph Bouquet claimed, and Emma heard the wires creak and crackle as he started to slowly ease the curtain up. “And if there is.... Well, it must have been a ghost then!” 

A loud and cackling laughter followed his statement, and Emma saw her fellow classmates look bewildered at one another. 

“THANK you, Bouquet, that’s quite enough!” Malena snapped. “If I ever catch you making up colorful excuses for not minding your job, I will inform Mr. Gold! Now get that damn curtain away from the stage!”

“Yes, Madame Drake,” Joseph Bouquet said. He was clearly annoyed at Malena and her accusations, but it was obvious that he didn’t quite dare saying it out loud. He was probably afraid of being ratted out to Mr. Gold. 

“About time,” Malena snapped. “Good grief! Minding the curtain is the only job you have!”

“Mom, are you okay?” Lily asked concerned. “Did the curtain hit you?”

“No, dear, I’m quite unharmed,” Malena assured and smiled at her daughter. Then she turned her attention to Ruby. “And you, miss Lucas? Are you unharmed?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said. She too sounded a little rattled. “I just don’t understand how it could happen?”

“It was just an accident,” Malena said and looked up at the bridge again. “Accidents happens. These things do happen from time to time. And especially when certain people aren’t minding their jobs!”

Joseph Bouquet had nothing to say for himself, and Malena sighed. “Right then. Let’s continue. Miss Lucas, do you think you will be able to continue?”

“Yes, of course,” Ruby said quickly. 

Malena smiled. “That’s the spirit. From the beginning then, if you please. One, two, three...”

Ruby started singing once again, but Emma wasn’t paying attention. She was far busier looking up at the bridge. She couldn’t see Joseph Bouquet anymore. She couldn’t see anyone. But that didn’t necessarily have to mean that no one was there. Maybe Joseph Bouquet had been more right than he knew. Maybe there had indeed been a ghost up there with him. Maybe Regina was the one who had made the curtain fall down. Emma felt a chill run down her spine. Why would Regina do that? 

Her musings were interrupted by a hard elbow jabbing her in the ribs. Lily was reminding her to pay attention. Emma immediately did so, but her head was swimming with thoughts and suspicions, and she couldn’t wait to find out if her suspicion was indeed correct. It had to be. But why was Regina up there? Didn’t she realize what a huge risk that was? She could have been seen by someone! By Bouquet! Emma almost got angry at Regina for acting so stupid. It would have been a disaster if someone, anyone, had caught a glimpse of her!

Ruby wrapped up the song, and this time, Malena had nothing bad to say. She just smiled and praised Ruby for her singing. “That was beautiful, miss Lucas. Excellent.”

Ruby smiled at the praise, but it didn’t take long before Emma saw her glance up at the bridge. Emma immediately felt panicked. Had Ruby caught a glimpse of Regina? Wouldn’t she have said so if she had? Emma hoped that was the case. Maybe Ruby was just as startled as everyone else. Emma had hoped to settle with that, but then she remembered that Ruby had experienced something similar when the chandelier had fallen down. Maybe this reminded Ruby of that. Oh god, what if she started to ask questions and link this to what had happened three years ago? That could not happen. Emma desperately hoped that Ruby would forget this incident fairly quickly. After all, there had been no one up there. Except for Joseph Bouquet. And his accusations about ghosts weren’t very believable. Even if there really HAD been a ‘ghost’ up there with him.

Emma obediently sang along with the rest of the choir, but her thoughts were all over the place. Maybe she was just paranoid, but she was sure she had seen Killian glance up at the bridge too. And she kept imagining that she was hearing creaks coming from the bridge. Which she probably did, since Joseph Bouquet still was up there, but it was just a little bit too easy to imagine that it was Regina slinking around up there in her usual fashion. Emma forced herself to stare straight ahead. Maybe she was just being silly. Maybe it had been Bouquet’s doing all along. Maybe he accidentally had made the curtain fall down because he was drunk on stolen wine. That was a possibility too. It didn’t necessarily HAVE to be Regina who had done this. But Emma was definitely planning on asking Regina when she saw her tonight. And if it really DID turn out to be her... Well, Emma wasn’t entirely sure of how she was supposed to avoid getting angry if it was Regina who was behind this. She could have harmed Mal. Or Ruby. And she could have been seen by Bouquet or someone else. If it really was her on the bridge, she had taken an unnecessary, stupid risk, and with the risk of getting kicked out of the lair,   
Emma was going to tell her that! Regina couldn’t take risks like that! She closed her eyes, took a quick breath and then fell into the rhythm once more. This wasn’t really any of her business. She didn’t have any right to get upset if Regina had taken a risk. 

And she wasn’t here to think about Regina. She was here to sing. Hopefully without anymore interruptions. The curtain was back in place, and Malena seemed to be a little more relaxed. A bit kinder than before. Which was pretty nice, actually.......

That evening, Emma went through her now well-practiced and polished routine. She snuck food into her schoolbag. She filled a tray with food for herself and then sat down to have dinner with her friends. Stealing the food was barely affected her anymore. It had become a routine to her. Something she did every night. And got away with it. Once again, she felt that secret thrill when she sat and chitchatted with her friends and acted like her schoolbag wasn’t full of stolen food. 

“It was weird what happened with that curtain, wasn’t it?” Ruby softly mused, more to herself than to her friends.

“It was just an accident,” Emma said quickly. Too quickly. 

“A freak one,” Lily added and shook her head. “It was fucking lucky that mom wasn’t hurt! She was literally standing right there!”

Yes. Yes, she was. Emma’s stomach twisted a little. 

“Maybe it was Bouquet,” Belle said. “I mean, he WAS up there, and he did make a stupid joke.”

“Mmm,” Ruby said, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “Maybe.”

“It could have been him,” Emma heard herself say.

“Must have been,” Ruby said, stabbing a potato with her fork. “Curtains doesn’t just fall down on their own like that.”

“Good thing no one was hurt,” Belle said and gave Ruby’s arm a little squeeze. 

“Yeah.” Ruby nodded and smiled. “And the rest of the lesson went fine, don’t you think?”

“It did,” Lily said warmly. “You were amazing!”

“As were the rest of you,” Ruby said firmly. 

“Yeah, but you’re like.... the star,” Lily continued.

Emma looked up from her food and glanced at her friend. Was there a hint of jealousy in Lily’s voice? Was Lily jealous of Ruby? That was new. Emma had never heard Lily express jealousy towards Ruby before. Or towards anyone else for that matter. That wasn’t good. Apart from stealing alcohol, jealousy was one of the biggest no-no’s at the Opera Garnier. Voices weren’t meant to be compared. Some had soft voices, other had strong voices, but the general rule at the Opera Garnier was that no voice was better than someone else’s. 

Lily quickly flashed Ruby a smile and then looked down at her food. Perhaps she had felt Emma look at her. Emma almost hoped so. And she hoped that this wouldn’t become a problem. They had no use for jealousy in the choir. 

But maybe the remark had just been a goof-up on Lily’s part. She seemed okay now. All happy and enthusiastic as she chitchatted with Ruby. Perhaps she had realized that her comment had been bordering on sounding jealous. 

Emma concluded her dinner and excused herself. It was time to disappear. Again...

She braved rats and darkness and found herself on the threshold to the Phantom’s Lair once again. The difference between the noisy canteen and this place was striking. 

Not that the lair was completely quiet. When Emma stepped inside, she could hear faint humming. Once Upon a Dream. Emma chuckled a little to herself. She found it to be slightly funny that Regina were humming Disney songs when she was alone. 

But then the humming stopped, and Regina’s voice was significantly sharper when she said: “at last! Took you long enough!”

“Sorry,” Emma said, voice sheepish. But she didn’t feel very sheepish. After a month of this, she could say that she was used to Regina’s attitude. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Regina snapped from somewhere in the lair. “Are you gonna bring me the food, or what?”

“Yes, Regina,” Emma said obediently and walked deeper into the lair. Regina was clearly in that snappy mood she sometimes was in. Maybe she was hungry. She often turned snappy when she was hungry. 

Emma reminded herself to be a little quicker tomorrow. She didn’t want Regina to go hungry. 

She found Regina sitting on the throne like chair. She looked very regal sitting there. Like a queen overseeing her kingdom. Normally, she would be sitting in the room behind the black curtain, but not tonight. Emma had come to think of that room as Christine’s. There were still so many of Christine’s things in there. One night, when Emma had come into the room to give Regina her food, she had suddenly noticed a baby blue dress laying on the boat-bed. Regina had given no explanation for the dress, but Emma knew that it had been Christine’s, and she hadn’t dared asking about the dress. 

Maybe she and Regina had started talking a little more over the past month, but not about Christine. Emma didn’t dare bringing her up, and Regina certainly never spoke of her. At least not really. On rare occasions, there was a remark here and there. ‘Christine once said...’ or ‘there was a time where Christine...’. Little things like that. Regina never revealed much more than a casual anecdote once in a while, but of course that was more than enough to make Emma curious. She so wanted to know more about Christine and her friendship with Regina, but she didn’t dare bringing it up. She had gotten lucky when she snuck a peek in Christine’s diary again. She didn’t want to push her luck by asking about Christine. She didn’t want to make Regina angry or upset. 

It didn’t take long before Emma noticed that Regina looked a bit... disheveled tonight. Her long dark hair looked messy and unkept. The straps on the black nightgown she was wearing seemed to slide down her shoulders all the time, and the black feather cloak she so often wore had been carelessly thrown on the floor next to the throne. But it was the bottle Regina was squeezing in her hand that threw Emma off completely. 

“It was you!” she blurted. 

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” 

But Emma was a little too busy looking at the bottle in Regina’s right hand. “Is that wine?” she asked. 

“Yes,” Regina said lightly and raised the bottle. She brought it up to her lips and took a long drink. Then she said: “you want some?”

“I’m not old enough to drink,” Emma mumbled. 

“Oh, right. My bad,” Regina let out a not too kind laughter. Then she raised the bottle again and took another gulp. A long, deep one. 

“Where did you find it?” Emma asked. She was pretty sure she already knew where Regina had ‘found’ it, but she was eager to have her suspicion confirmed. 

“Does it matter?” Regina scoffed. 

“You took it, didn’t you?” Emma asked plainly. 

Regina raised an eyebrow now, and even under the mask, Emma could see her mouth twisting. “What’s it to you, Little Swan?” 

“Everyone’s room has been searched!” Emma exclaimed. “The teachers thinks one of the older students took it!”

“Really?” Regina said, taking another sip of the bottle. “I thought Joseph Bouquet was the culprit. He seems the type, doesn’t he?”

The way she said it, so innocently, immediately made Emma pause. She looked thoroughly at Regina. “Did you....”

“Did I what?” Regina snipped. “Finish your sentences, Little Swan.”

“Wasityouwhomadethecurtainfalldown?!” Emma cringed. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she speak up instead of blurting nonsense. 

Regina laughed coldly. “I understood absolutely nothing of that.”

Emma pulled herself together. “Did you... Were you the one who made the curtain fall down during the rehearsal?”

Regina took another languid sip of the bottle of wine. Licked her lips and stared at the wall rather than at Emma when she said: “That Maleficent who teaches you has quite the mouth on her. Yack, yack, yack, bla, bla, bla. She calls herself a teacher. Ha! She should be the first one to know that half of a music lesson is about listening without interrupting.” Another deep gulp of the wine followed the   
statement. 

“So it was you,” Emma said quietly. 

“I never said that, Little Swan. All I did was complaining over your so-called teacher.”

“But you were definitely there.”

“Maybe I was. And maybe I saw that imbecile Bouquet make the curtain fall down by accident. Or perhaps he was distracted by a sound and had to check up on that. And in his absence, the curtain fell down. Quite the accident, really.”

“S-someone could have gotten hurt,” Emma mumbled. 

“By that curtain? Oh no, dear. No, had someone really wanted to cause harm, they would have brought down the chandelier instead, I’m sure,” Regina said dryly and treated herself to another swig of the wine. 

Emma tilted her head and looked at her masked-wearing teacher. “Are you... Are you drunk?”

“Oh yes,” Regina said almost gleefully. “Absolutely.” She smacked her lips lightly. “And I’ll have you know that it’s absolutely delightful. Just you wait until you’re old enough to drink.”

Emma didn’t quite know what to say. So she took off her backpack and brought out the food. Walked over to the throne and gave it to Regina. 

“Sandwiches,” Regina said dryly. “How... lovely.”

“There were also spaghetti and meatballs, but I couldn’t exactly stuff that down my backpack. Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. 

“If I were to wait for you in your room when you came back from dinner, you didn’t have to stuff anything down your backpack.”

Emma quickly looked up at Regina. “What? You want to-“

“Never mind,” Regina dismissed and traded the bottle of wine for a sandwich. She took a bite, chewed, swallowed and then said: “well? Are you gonna sing or what?”

“Oh, uhm... sure,” Emma said awkwardly. She had a hard time keeping up with Regina’s changing mood tonight. Maybe it was better to stick with singing and not talking tonight. She took an extra breath, fixated her gaze on the floor. She always did that whenever Regina was near her. It made her nervous when Regina was looking at her. Looking at the floor made her feel less anxious. Even though Regina often laughed at her when she did it. She teased Emma and called her a ‘shy little duckling’.

Now Emma took a deep breath and began to sing. She never thought about which song to sing, she simply did it. And tonight she had clearly been inspired by Regina’s humming. The familiar tunes of   
‘Once Upon a Dream’ filled the lair. Perhaps a bit childish, but it was the first song that came to mind, and it made for a nice change after having sung pieces from ‘The Magic Flute’. She had always loved ‘Sleeping Beauty’, and the song sounded so good down here between these stone walls. Music always sounded better down here. Emma particularly liked the way her voice echoed and bounced off the walls. It was very aesthetically pleasing. Yes, Emma felt pleased with herself. Her voice sounded good. Maybe even better than ever. She had gotten the breathiness under control. Now she just needed to be able to turn around and look at her teacher while singing.

But Emma felt more apprehensive about that. Because she had developed the unfortunate habit of ‘feeling weird’ when she looked at Regina, and especially while singing. And she had trouble with describing the weird feeling too. The closest she came to doing so, was thinking of the feeling as ‘tingly’. Yes. A tingling sensation in her entire body. At first Emma had thought that it was some kind of residual fear because of the mask and all, but deep down she knew that she wasn’t afraid of Regina. Not really. 

But she had absolutely no desire to investigate the tingling sensation further. No, not at all!

Emma stopped singing. The last tune hanging in the air like a soap bubble. Feeling rather satisfied with herself, she briefly looked up to see Regina’s reaction. 

Regina hadn’t moved an inch. She was still sitting on the throne, bottle of wine clutched in her right hand, and far too much olive skin on display. Emma preferred when Regina was a bit more... dressed.   
It always felt like walking in on a private moment whenever Regina was wearing only her nightgown, and it made Emma feel embarrassed. But she couldn’t exactly ask Regina to please put on some more clothes in her own... home. That would be rude. Emma didn’t want to be rude. Or risk being made fun of. She had once asked Regina if she never got cold when only wearing that nightgown, and Regina had laughed louder than Emma had ever heard her do before. 

Emma snapped out of it, realized that Regina hadn’t said anything yet. It was clearly up to Emma to prompt her to speak tonight. “Well?” she asked the floor rather than asking the Phantom herself. She still had some trouble with looking at Regina. 

Regina’s only reaction was to snort and then take another sip from the wine bottle. 

Emma’s stomach instantly dropped. “What?” she asked. Maybe Regina was dissatisfied because Emma had chosen the song, she had hummed a moment ago. 

“Nothing,” Regina said flatly. 

Emma’s stomach dropped further if even possible. “You didn’t like it?” she guessed. 

“Your voice is pretty.”

Oh. Pretty. That was good. Maybe Emma didn’t have to be nervous after all. “You’ve taught me so much!” she beamed. 

“Taught?” Regina scoffed. “I’ve taught you nothing. In fact it’s beyond me why you insist upon coming back here.” 

“What are you talking about?” Emma asked confused. “You HAVE taught me so much! My voice isn’t breathy anymore.”

“No. Your voice is pretty,” Regina said in the same flat manner. 

“But what?” Emma asked. Of course there was a ‘but’. “You didn’t like it? I... I sang everything correctly.”

“Yes. You did. That’s the problem,” Regina said dryly. “You sing... too correctly. You’re not feeling it. You just-“ she stood from the throne like chair and stalked through the lair on shaky legs. “-Stand there and sing. Because that’s what you are supposed to do.”

Emma tried not to glare at her teacher. “What does that even mean?”

“You are not setting the music in you free,” Regina said simply, long fingers wandering up and tapping lightly against the half-mask. 

“What are you talking about?!” Now Emma was definitely insulted. “Of course I am!”

“You’re not,” Regina scoffed. “You’re so focused on singing perfect and blending in. You don’t let it run wild! Music isn’t meant to be controlled! It’s supposed to.... Unfurl!”

Emma was taken aback by the Phantom’s snappy tone. “Why are you getting angry?” she asked quietly and confused. 

“Because you’ve got all this potential!” Regina hissed. “And you’re letting it go to shit by keeping it bottled up because you’re too afraid to let it out!”

“I am not afraid!”

“Yes, you are.”

“I am not, I’m-“

“What do you feel when you sing?” Regina interrupted, blatantly ignoring the fact that Emma had just spoken. 

“What?”

“What do you feel when you sing?” Regina repeated, pronouncing each word very, very slowly. 

“I...” Emma swallowed something. “I feel good. Happy. Excited. Eager to hear how my voice blends in with the rest of the choir. Attentive to detail because I don’t want to sing too quietly or too loud. I want to sing perfectly.”

Regina sighed deeply as though she found Emma’s pretty sensible answer to be terribly disappointing. “But do you feel beautiful?” she asked in that low and raspy voice she always spoke in. “Do you feel the music pour out of you when you sing? Do you feel the strands of melody wrap around your bones and make them go weak? Does it feel like your throat is burning in a good way when you’re done singing? Do you feel like you are MADE of music?”

Emma’s heart was hammering, and she didn’t quite understand why. The intensity of Regina’s question took her by surprise, and the only type of response she could get out was: “I... No. But music isn’t about feeling... beautiful.”

“Of course it is!” Regina snapped. “Music is about feeling the kind of beauty that comes from within when you do something you love. Music is about forgetting everything else and realizing that it never was that important. Music is about creating new worlds and being transported to them. It’s about closing your eyes because there’s no point in keeping your eyes open, you’re not seeing what’s in front of you either way. That’s what music is about. Not looking at the floor when you sing because you’re afraid of messing up and seeing your teacher disapprove of you because of it!”

Emma blushed, properly chastened. Her throat closed up as though she was going to cry. She didn’t want to cry! She bit her lip harshly to stop herself. 

“You’re not feeling the music like it deserves to be felt,” Regina said tiredly. “You don’t push yourself because you’re too afraid of not being perfect. You’re afraid of leaving the safety of the back row in the choir. You’re not paying homage to the music.”

Once again, Emma’s heart started hammering in her chest. “Then... Please, teach me,” she croaked. 

Regina finally let go of the bottle of wine. Sat it down on the stone floor, then rose to her full height once more. Her long fingers traced the outline of the white mask covering one half of her face. “And what makes you think you are ready to be taught?”

“I am!” Emma said automatically. “Please, I want to learn. I want.... I want to feel the music like you do.”

Regina’s bare feet made no sound against the stone floor as she came towards Emma. “And if I tell you that that type of lesson will be nothing like the ones you’ve had so far? That I will not be kind to you? That I will push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before? That I will tell you to keep singing even when it feels like you can’t? That you’ll feel your throat burn the day after?”

Truth to be told, Emma felt a little afraid. And definitely overwhelmed already. But her curiosity was still stronger and more intense than anything else. “I can do it,” she heard herself say. 

Regina flashed her a wicked grin. “I doubt you can, Little Swan.”

“Give me a chance!” Emma snapped. “Don’t write me off immediately!”

“Feisty,” Regina commented and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve seen that before, Little Swan.”

Forcing herself to ignore that, Emma repeated: “give me a chance.”

“You’ll regret that you’ve ever asked in the first place.”

“I don’t care! I want to do it! Please, give me a chance!”

Regina once again smiled wickedly. “Very well then. But do not complain or whine once we get started. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

Regina nodded. “Tomorrow night there will be no lesson.” She picked up the bottle of wine and took a swig of the wine. “Tomorrow night you will stay away from the lair. But the night after that... You’ll bring me my food like you always do, and then... We’ll sing.”

“You’ll sing too?” Emma asked, pleasantly surprised. She did so love when the Phantom sing. 

“Oh yes,” Regina cackled. “We’ll sing together. Now go away. Leave me alone until the night after tomorrow.”

Emma so wanted to linger and ask more about the upcoming lesson, but she could sense that she wouldn’t get anymore out of Regina tonight. The mask clad woman had once again sat down on her throne. Long legs dangling loosely over the armrest, and bottle of wine clutched in her hand once more. Emma watched as the Phantom gulped down sip after sip, and she couldn’t resist to comment on it: “I’ve never seen you drink before.”

“I’m sure there are many things you’ve never seen me do before, Little Swan.”

“Why are you drinking so much? Tonight, I mean?” Emma asked clumsily and blushed. 

“What’s it to you?” Regina half-snapped. 

“Nothing!” Emma spluttered. “I’m just- are you okay?” 

Regina choked on a mouthful of wine and wheezed. Then she laughed. “And what’s THAT to you, Little Swan?” 

“Well... We’re friends,” Emma mumbled. 

“Friends,” Regina repeated sardonically. “Right. Well then, to answer your question... No, I’m not okay. I rarely am. But I don’t normally steal a bottle of wine to deal with it. Normally, I sing, but apparently,   
that doesn’t work for me tonight. Now leave.” 

Emma didn’t leave. Instead she asked: “what’s wrong?”

“It would probably be easier to ask what ISN’T wrong.” Regina murmured. “The only person I’ve ever cared about is dead, and my new ‘student’ doesn’t understand music!”

“Well, now I know that music is supposed to make you feel beautiful,” Emma muttered half-heartedly. It was a weak defense. Because singing had always been about doing her best and advancing as fast as possible. She had never given herself much space to... feel. 

Regina laughed bitterly. “And why do you think I sing so much, Little Swan? Why do you think I surround myself with music?”

Emma stared at the Phantom. Perhaps she was dense, but not that dense. Regina didn’t find herself beautiful. “But you are-“

“Out,” Regina interrupted, voice sharp. “Right now. I’m tired of looking at you. I want to be left alone!”

This time, Emma chose to do as Regina said. She hastily grabbed her backpack and faithful torch and then skittered out of the lair as fast as possible. But she wasn’t pleased about it at all. She would have liked to have stayed. At least long enough to tell the Phantom that she found her to be quite.... beautiful. 

To Be Continued..........


	22. Your Spirit, And My Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter. A very long chapter. And I did consider splitting it into two, but at the end of the day I felt like it would be a shame and take away the experience. So, now you have been warned. It's a long one.

Emma didn’t sleep that night. She couldn’t. When she came back to her room, her head was full of thoughts, and when she finally went to bed, she was afraid to close her eyes. Not because of nightmares or anything else, but because she kept seeing Regina every time, she closed her eyes. Kept seeing her sitting with her legs slung over the armrest on the throne, and long fingers wrapped around the neck of the wine bottle. She had been drunk. Emma had never seen her drunk before. Normally, it unnerved her to see other people drunk, but she hadn’t felt unnerved by Regina’s state of intoxicated. Almost quite the reverse. 

Emma had tossed and turned all through the night, and when she woke up the following morning, she was surprised to discover a sheet of paper on her vanity table. She was out of bed in a heartbeat and stumbled blindly over to the vanity table. Grabbed the sheet of paper and flopped back onto the bed. Blinked a few times to focus on the little note attached to the sheet of paper. Once the world had stopped blurring together, Emma could see elegant handwriting instructing her to: ‘learn the lyrics, but do not attempt to sing them. Not until tomorrow night. Sing only what you’re supposed to sing for school, but try to spare your voice as much as possible.’ Emma found that to be a pretty strange instruction. But she found her reaction to the note to be even stranger. She wasn’t sure why, but for whatever reason, she brought the note up to her nose and inhaled. Her suspicion was correct. The note did indeed smell of roses. How odd. She glanced at the little scrap of paper again. ‘Try to spare your voice as much as possible.’ That was nerve-wracking. Emma wasn’t completely sure what kind of rehearsal it would be tomorrow night, but it would undoubtedly be a tough one. Emma was already nervous. Her throat was gonna burn. Regina had said so. But Emma could do it. She was ready to be taught, she really was! She wanted to prove herself. She wanted to prove that she felt the music. Regina had told her she didn’t, but that wasn’t true! Emma did understand music, and when tomorrow night’s lesson was over with, Regina would realize that. 

Emma put the note aside and glanced at the sheet of paper. It was music. Nodes and lyrics. Written in the same elegant handwriting. Regina had written it. She must have. 

“’Think of me,’” Emma quietly read aloud to herself. “’Think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye. Remember me, every so often, please promise me you’ll try. When you find that once again you long to take your heart back, and be free. If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me...’”. That was a really beautiful song. Emma thought to herself that Regina was amazingly talented. She was a wonderful composer. The song didn’t look overly difficult. There was some vocalizing by the end of it where her voice would climb a bit higher. But not high enough to make the task impossible. She felt quite optimistic and excited as she put the first song away and took a look at the second one. Very appropriately, it was titled ‘The Phantom of the Opera. Emma giggled a bit to herself. Then she began reading aloud once more: “’In sleep she sang to me, in dreams she came, that voice which calls to me, and speaks my name, but do I dream again, for now I find, the Phantom of the Opera is there! Inside my mind’”. Emma frowned as she let her gaze wander down the page. The second verse appeared to have been inked over with some sort of pencil, but further down, she could see more lines for her to sing. Why was parts of the song inked over? Emma didn’t understand. Until she remembered that Regina had said she was going to sing. Emma felt a flutter in her belly. Was this a duet? Were they going to sing together? But if that was the case, why had Regina inked her own parts of the song over? That was weird. And unfair! Emma wanted to see her parts of the song! She pouted as she tried to concentrate on the next verse in the song: “’Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear, I am the mask you wear!’”. Next part inked out again, but underneath that, “’your spirit, and my voice, in one combined, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!’” more inked out parts, but the next one readable made Emma shiver a little bit. “’That woman and mystery, were both in you! And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, The Phantom of The Opera is there, inside your mind. She’s there, The Phantom of the Opera...’”. And then what? There was nothing else written on the page, but the song seemed oddly unfinished. Emma turned the paper over to see if anything else was written, but she didn’t find anything else. So apparently that was it. Two songs. None of them overly difficult. Emma was puzzled. 

From the way Regina had spoken last night, it had sounded like she was going to put Emma through quite the ordeal, but this seemed almost... easy. Emma drew in a breath. Maybe she had nothing to worry about. Maybe Regina had just tried to make her nervous. Tried and succeeded. Emma snickered a little. How odd it sounded, Regina sometimes was a bit of a trickster. And she was going to sing with Emma tomorrow night! She felt something rush down her spine. She couldn’t wait to hear Regina sing! And together! That was new. They hadn’t sung together before. They had never duetted together. Not like they would tomorrow. Now Emma felt nervous for other reasons. She wanted to do good. She didn’t want to disappoint Regina when they sang together. She hoped that she would live up to the expectations Regina had. Emma glanced at the mirror. She was so tempted to sneak into the lair with some aspirin for Regina. The way she had been drinking wine last night, her head was bound to hurt really badly today, and Emma would have liked to come to Regina’s aid. But Regina had explicitly told her not to, and Emma reluctantly chose to obey. If Regina was really hungover from all the wine, she probably didn’t want to see Emma today. 

But still, Emma wondered. How did a hungover Phantom of the Opera look?.....

That day seemed to drag on forever. The morning lesson alone was awful. Emma was unconcentrated and didn’t sing very loudly. Her eyes kept wandering up to the bridge where the curtain had fallen from yesterday. She could see Joseph Bouquet walk around up there. Regina wasn’t there. Emma knew that technically was a good thing. Regina wasn’t really supposed to be here. Not in plain sight. But still, Emma had sort of wished that she could have caught the quickest glimpse of her. Not that she normally did so, but she always had a feeling that Regina was up there. Today she was certain that Regina wasn’t. Today she could only see Joseph Bouquet. In fact she looked up at the bridge so frequently she ended up making accidental eye contact with the man. He grinned down at her with his ugly, crooked teeth, and Emma immediately looked away, feeling horrified that he had smiled at her. But it probably wouldn’t have happened if she had paid attention to the things, she was supposed to pay attention to. She was definitely not supposed to stand with her neck stretched like a giraffe in an attempt to look up at the bridge. Regina wasn’t there. Regina was in her lair. Regina was most likely busy taking care of her aching head. Emma knew that Regina’s head was bound to hurt a lot today. Even though Emma never had been hungover herself, she had seen enough movies and read enough books to know how unpleasant it had to be. Was it really worth it? She wondered what had prompted Regina to steal a bottle of wine and get drunk like she had last night. Was that something that happened a lot? 

Emma wished that she had asked more questions. Dug a little deeper. Regina had definitely not been okay last night. Emma shouldn’t have allowed her to brush her off like that. She should have found a way to let Regina know that she could talk to Emma if she needed to. That was what friends did, and Emma would like to think that she was Regina’s friend. 

Regina this, Regina that. Emma shook her head. What on earth was the matter with her? Since when did she obsess over Regina like she was doing right now? Since when did she allow her to occupy her every thought? 

Suddenly remembering the song Regina had left for her, Emma felt a chill run down her spine. ‘The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind’. That... wasn’t entirely wrong. Emma HAD found herself to think quite a bit about Regina lately. But not usually in the middle of a rehearsal. No, the ‘forbidden’ thoughts always came to her in the middle of the night when she was supposed to sleep. And sometimes she dreamed too. Strange, shadowy dreams about a lair filled with candles and a faceless woman singing luring tunes from somewhere in the darkness. It could have been an eerie setup, but Emma was never afraid in the dreams. She always felt completely safe. And so terribly disappointed when she woke up in the morning. Sometimes she wished she could stay in the dream instead of having to wake up. 

Once again, Emma forced herself to look away from the bridge....

Dinner that night was weird too. Right off the bat, Emma ended up stuffing a couple of bread rolls down her schoolbag before remembering that she didn’t actually have to do that. Then she awkwardly and discreetly had put the bread rolls back when no one was looking. She felt completely deflated when she settled down at a table with Lily and Killian. It was so weird to just... sit here. Without slipping upstairs and disappearing through the passage behind the mirror. It had only been a day, but Emma already missed it terribly. And she couldn’t stop thinking about what Regina was doing. Was she awake? Or could she be asleep? Maybe. She had once told Emma that she was ‘a creature of the night’, and Emma had actually sort of liked that idea. The idea of Regina sneaking around in the quiet opera house at night when everyone was asleep. She imagined Regina going through the kitchen and maybe eating a slice of leftover cake. She liked cake. Had been pleasantly surprised when Emma once had brought her a piece. Emma had felt awkward for doing it at first, but the chocolate cake had been so good and gooey, she couldn’t resist sneaking a piece of it upstairs and through the mirror. She had expected Regina to scoff and call her silly, but Regina’s dark eyes had completely lit up, and for one brief moment she had almost seemed satisfied with Emma. Which was a rarity. Regina always scoffed and corrected Emma for this and that. And Emma secretly loved it. She was slowly starting to get brave enough to ‘shoot back’, and she enjoyed their little banters more than she probably should. The nightly conversations with the Phantom was the highlight of Emma’s day. She wasn’t ‘undercover’ anymore. At least not in the traditional way. Well, she still wanted to know what had happened to Christine, and more about her and the Phantom’s mysterious friendship, but now she was more interested in solving the mystery to help Regina. And instead of looking for the next possibility to poke around and ask Regina questions about Christine, Emma chose to believe that Regina would tell her herself. In time. 

Emma poked at her food with her fork. She wasn’t hungry. Knowing that she would not be going to the lair later was sort of ruining her appetite. Maybe it was dramatic, but that happened to be how she felt. Deflated like a balloon running out of air. She wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation going on between Lily and Killian. Like she hadn’t been paying attention most of the day. But luckily, no one had noticed. Emma had managed to fly under the radar and get away with being sort of quiet. Malena hadn’t noticed. And she had been way nicer than she was yesterday. Despite the bottle of wine never resurfacing. It was like the falling curtain had made her snap out of her angry mood. Which was sort of a good thi-

No! Emma immediately stopped herself. No, she did NOT condone what Regina had done yesterday! Not at all. That curtain could potentially have injured someone. There had been nothing fun about it. Absolutely nothing whatsoever!

Nighttime came, and it became time to go to bed. Emma was both feeling grateful and irritated. Grateful because today had been so, so long, and she wanted nothing more than just go to sleep and let it become tomorrow. But irritated because knew there was no way she would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Now that everything was quiet, her head would be full of thoughts, she was sure of it. 

But there was no way around it. After having hung out with Lily for far too long time and almost breaking curfew, Emma finally decided to call it a night. She headed into her own room and started getting undressed. She folded her clothes elegantly before stuffing it into her dresser. She was stalling. She was postponing the moment where she actually had to go to bed. To make herself more tired. To ensure that maybe, perhaps she would actually fall asleep fairly quickly. Emma changed into a nightgown, went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Sorted out her hair. She chose to braid it. That way her hair would be all curly tomorrow. Emma liked when her hair was all curly. And she had a naïve idea that Regina did too. She had once scoffed and called Emma’s hair ‘wild and unruly’, and obviously, Emma chose to take this as a sign that Regina liked her hair. And didn’t find it wild and unruly. 

With that taken care of, Emma returned to her room and let out a puff of air. She wasn’t the least bit sleepy. She was too jittery. Excited. Anticipative. But she nevertheless still got settled in bed. Propped up the pillow behind her and adjusted her glasses just a little. Then she grabbed the sheets of music Regina had delivered to her at some point during the night. Regina had been in her room last night. 

The thought of that filled Emma’s belly with tingles. It almost felt as though the skin was being pulled tight across her bones. That’s how much gooseflesh she had. And she silently cursed herself for how deeply she had been asleep. If only she had been awake. She could have seen Regina. Talked to her. That could have been nice. Emma hadn’t forgotten Regina’s casual remark about wanting to wait in her room while Emma found the food downstairs in the canteen. That could have been nice too. Coming upstairs to her room and finding Regina waiting for her. Finding the Phantom of the Opera waiting in her room. Emma found that to be absolutely thrilling. But she had a feeling that Regina hadn’t meant what she said about wanting to wait in her room. She had only been drunk. That was the only reason she had said it. Unfortunately. 

Emma snapped out of her musings and turned her attention back to the lyrics in front of her. She was supposed to have these lyrics memorized by tomorrow night. She had spent every single break in between singing studying the lyrics. And never had she been more grateful that she was such a quick learner. And that words always tended to stick with her. Emma had a feeling that learning the lyrics would be the easiest part of it all....

Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack.

What was that? 

Emma’s head snapped up so abruptly she almost bumped her head against the wall. It was quite late, and she had been very engaged with her studies, but now she was distracted. By a sound. 

Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack.

Someone was walking around in the hallway. Emma frowned slightly. Was that a wayward member of the choir who had snuck out of bed? Could it be a secret, romantic meeting between two members of the choir? Two people in love sneaking away to go on a moonlight stroll? Emma’s first thought was that it was Ruby and Belle. This seemed like something they would do. At least Ruby. It wouldn’t be the first time she had snuck out, Emma knew that. According to Belle, Ruby had been notoriously known for sneaking out three years ago. It had been right after Christine’s death, and Ruby had been upset after losing her friend. She hadn’t even wanted to stay in Paris, so she had acted out. Had hoped to get herself kicked out if she kept breaking the rules, but that hadn’t happened. Instead she and Belle had grown closer, and Emma suspected that was what had saved Ruby. But Ruby had still snuck out a few times afterwards. With Belle. To be together. And probably because it was a bit thrilling too. 

Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack.

But maybe it wasn’t Ruby or Belle. The walk was a bit too loud for it to be a student who tried to sneak around. It had to be a teacher. Malena or Mme. Carlotta or one of the others. But then again, why would one of the teachers be walking around in the girls’ dormitory hallway? To patrol? No, that didn’t make sense. There was nothing to patrol after. All the members of the choir was in their beds. At least Emma assumed they were. But perhaps one of the teachers had overheard one of the girls talking about wanting to sneak out tonight. That could very well be the reason behind the nightly patrol of the hallway. 

Emma chose to believe that that was the reason. She wanted it to be one of the teachers. Because for whatever reason, the image of Joseph Bouquet and his crooked, yellow teeth had popped up in her mind. God, suppose it really was him sneaking around out there?

Emma told herself to calm down. Of course it wasn’t. She was just imagining things because she was tired and should be going to sleep. 

Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack. 

The sound became fainter and fainter and then disappeared entirely. Good. That was good. Emma adjusted her glasses and turned her attention back to the lyrics she was attempting to learn. She was planning on staying up for at least another thirty minutes. To study. And to make sure that the sound didn’t come back......

When morning came, Emma was bleary eyed but satisfied. There had been no further clacking sounds in the hallway, and she had ended up deciding that she had just imagined it to sound like footsteps. It had probably just been the old opera house creaking and rattling because of the wind or something like that. That wasn’t so unusual. The Opera Garnier was an old building, and old buildings creaked all the time. And especially when it was windy like it had been last night. It was no big deal. Nothing to worry about. The only thing she could chose to worry about was her overactive imagination. Perhaps she really should stop reading thrillers. Emma loved thrillers, but if they caused her to imagine footsteps in the hallway late at night, it was definitely time to stop reading them. At least for a while. But that was okay. She had plenty of other things that could keep her entertained. And other books as well. Romantic ones. No more blood and gore for a while.

She had ended up staying up until it was rather late. But it had been absolutely worth it. She knew every worth of ‘Think of Me’ and ‘The Phantom of the Opera’. The lyrics had been dancing in her head all night. When she finally went to sleep, she’d dreamed about Regina’s lair. And Regina herself. For whatever reason, Emma’s brain had insisted on dressing the dream version of Regina in her black nightgown. Emma wasn’t so sure what to think about that, but she sort of hoped that Regina would be wearing more tonight. Maybe her black velvet dress with the bat sleeves and high collar. She looked so very sophisticated in that dress. 

Regina this, Regina that.

Emma shook her head and even went as far as clicking her tongue. Always thinking about the Phantom of the Opera. Was she even capable of thinking about something else besides Regina? Where had her head been at since Regina promised her a lesson? In the clouds, most likely, Emma thought to herself and let out an unladylike snort. She hadn’t been able to think about anything besides that. She was nervous, so nervous she didn’t quite know how she was supposed to eat anything today. Her stomach was full of butterflies. Yes, that was exactly how that fluttery feeling could be described. And perhaps it was the ONLY way to describe it too. Fluttery belly and sweaty palms. But she was also so excited she could barely stand it. Her upcoming lesson with Mme. Carlotta along with the rest of the choir seemed unimportant. Trivial, almost. Emma knew that it was terrible to think like that about the lessons she had travelled all the way to Paris to get, but she couldn’t help it. Ever since she had met the Phantom of the Opera, it had occupied her mind completely. One thing was discovering that there was a mask-clad woman living in the cellars, but another thing was to discover that said woman was the owner of the most beautiful voice in the world, AND that she happened to be the best teacher Emma could possibly have gotten. God, sometimes Emma felt as though her life only had begun when she came to Paris. 

Emma was quick in the bathroom on this particular morning. Teeth brushed, hair freed from the braid and combed through. She took a moment to admire the way it curled so spectacularly, and then she got a move on and continued her morning routine. Wiped her glasses so they weren’t greasy anymore and felt like a completely new person because of it. Finally, she applied a bit of makeup. More than she normally would put on for school. Her eyes were lined just a little bit more. The coat of mascara on her lashes just a little bit thicker. Normally Emma went for the simple look and used just a ‘dash’, but not today. And she also traded the pale pink lipstick for one that was a deeper shade of red. Once done, Emma took a step back to look at herself. She wasn’t quite sure why, maybe it was the deep red lipstick, but she looked different. Older. Eighteen or nineteen. Or- Emma puckered her lips slightly- perhaps even twenty. No, that was a stretch. She did not look twenty. And- now she frowned slightly- why did she want to look twenty? Why did she want to look older all the sudden? So far, she had been fairly comfortable with being seventeen. There was nothing wrong with being seventeen. Seventeen was a great age. Not quite an adult, but not a child either. That’s what her mom always said. 

But today Emma so wished that she had been older than seventeen. Just a few years. She knew it was silly of her, but there was a teeny tiny part of her who wanted to be closer to Regina’s age. Even though she wasn’t quite sure what that was. How old was Regina? It was so terribly difficult to tell. The way she spoke radiated maturity, but the way she had behaved when she was drunk last night, the way she casually had slung her legs over the throne’s armrest, had made her seem younger. Maybe Regina was in her late twenties. Or early thirties. Not that that was old, but still, Emma would have liked to be a few years older. 

And why was that? 

Well.... To make things a bit more... even between them. Yes. That was why. Emma wanted to be older so Regina would stop be so condescending towards her. She sometimes was, and Emma found it to be awfully irritating. Had she been older, Regina probably wouldn’t have been it. 

As she wiped a bit of excess lipstick away, Emma absentmindedly wondered if Regina had been so condescending towards Christine. Or had that been different? Maybe. Emma figured that many things about Regina’s friendship with Christine had been different than this friendship was. 

And now it was time to get dressed. No more dawdling. No more pondering. Emma left the bathroom and went in and opened her dresser.......

Concentrating was a lost cause that day. Emma didn’t even pretend to be focused. She settled for miming or singing very quietly during the rehearsals. From her position in the backrow, that sort of thing pretty much went unnoticed. Not even Lily paid attention to the fact that Emma wasn’t doing much singing. And besides, Ruby was the one who got the most attention from Mme. Carlotta and Mr. Gold. He was there for the rehearsal today, and that always motivated everyone just a little bit more. Which made Emma’s quietness all the more risky, but she got away with it. The focus was on Ruby who always seemed to sing just a little bit louder when Mr. Gold was present. It was important to sound your very best when the owner of the Opera Garnier was present. But Ruby didn’t have to worry about that. She always sounded her very best, and Mr. Gold looked satisfied too as he sat there on one of the velvet seats in the front row. If Emma stood on her tippy toes, she could just about see him. Yes, he looked satisfied. Even smiled as Ruby sang. That was something. Mr. Gold didn’t smile a lot. Well, of course he did when you ran into him in the hallways, but apart from that, he always looked so serious. Or upset. There had been a few occasions where Emma actually had seen him come op from the chapel, so maybe he came down there to light candles like Emma sometimes did for her grandmother. 

Maybe he had lost someone too. 

“Yes, mademoiselle Lucas,” Mme. Carlotta said with a slight nod. “That was very good, but I think we’ll do it one more time. From the beginning, if you please!”

Mme. Carlotta was less strict than Malena, but she was still a good teacher. But not as good or strict as....

Emma felt another nervous flutter in her belly. What would she be put through tonight? If only Regina had been a bit more clear about it. But she had only emphasized that it would be harder than any other lesson. Which Emma couldn’t get to make sense. She had spent hours and hours on learning the two songs the Phantom had given her, and even though ‘Think of Me’ ended on a bit of a high note, C6, it wasn’t THAT hard. Emma had reached a C6 before. And while it was straining, it wasn’t quite enough to make her throat BURN. So far, nothing had made Emma’s throat burn. And she didn’t have the imagination to envision what would. It had to have been something Regina just said in her drunken state. Maybe to scare her. Or maybe it had been another test. Yes. That made sense. Regina liked to test her. Had done so many times already. 

When the rest of the choir started vocalizing to back up Ruby’s singing, Emma did the same, only very quietly. For the first time, she had a feeling that Lily was looking at her, but for once, Emma chose not to pay attention to it. She didn’t care if Lily was curious. In fact, that was just about the last thing on Emma’s mind. Everything in her was aching to quit the lesson and disappear through the mirror...

Emma had never finished a meal quicker than she did that night. And never had she paid lesser attention to the food she was eating. Or stuffing down her backpack. 

When she was done eating, she stood from her chair a little too quickly. She became slightly woozy and had to grab onto the edge of the table for support. 

“Woah, are you good?” Ruby asked and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m fine,” Emma said quickly and blushed. “Just a little dizzy spell.”

“Maybe you should sit down for a moment. Have some more to drink?” Ruby suggested.

“No-no, I’m good. I don’t need to sit down,” Emma replied, quickly slipping on the backpack. She didn’t have time to sit down. She had somewhere she needed to be!

“Where are you going?” Ruby asked. 

“Homework,” Emma said swiftly and almost felt sly. 

“Really?” Ruby’s eyebrows were nearing her hairline. “You’ve barely been sitting here for five minutes.”

“I promised to give my parents a call too,” Emma added. Now she definitely felt sly. That was actually a pretty clever lie on her part.

“Oh,” Ruby nodded. “Right. You gonna come hang out later?”

“I don’t know if I can make it tonight, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow. G’night!” with that, Emma took off. Now she didn’t feel sly anymore. Her departure had been rushed. Questionable. She was paranoid enough to believe that Ruby had given her a certain look. A look of suspicion. One that suggested that she didn’t believe a word Emma had said. 

She tried to banish the thoughts from her mind as she left the canteen. Of course Ruby didn’t know anything. How could she possibly do that? Emma had been so careful. It was only tonight that she had almost slipped up. But that wouldn’t happen again. Emma would be extra careful the next time. 

She walked up the stairs towards the dormitory and smiled at Mr. Gold when she passed him on the way. He was on his way downstairs towards the canteen. “Evening, miss Swan.”

“Evening, Mr. Gold,” Emma returned the greeting and stepped aside so he could get past her with his cane and everything. Emma often felt sorry for him because he had such a terrible limp. And sometimes she wondered what had happened to him. Why he was limping and using the cane. It was difficult not to be nosy. 

“Have a nice evening, miss Swan,” he said and turned his head and smiled when he reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“You too, Mr. Gold,” Emma said automatically. She wasn’t sure ‘nice’ was the proper word to use for this night, but it would definitely be a most interesting evening...

At long last, Emma found herself back in the Phantom’s lair. It felt like she had been holding her breath all day, and she released a puff of air. Then closed her eyes and inhaled the smell of lit candles and roses. God, she had missed this place. Had missed all of it. She didn’t think of it as a strange lair underground. She thought of it as a place where she felt... at home. 

“There you are.”

Emma opened her eyes and lifted her head. Regina was sitting by the piano and playing a soft melody Emma didn’t recognize. 

“Hi,” Emma said, slipping the bag off her shoulders. “I’ve brought you food.”

“Have you studied the music I gave you?” Regina asked, completely ignoring Emma’s statement about the food. And without looking much at Emma.

“I have,” Emma confirmed and felt a little disappointed that Regina didn't seem to notice the adjustments Emma had made to her makeup. But the next second, Emma didn't understand why that even mattered.

It didn't. Of course it didn't.

“And do you remember all of it?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Regina said, finally looking up from the piano. She was in fact wearing the black velvet dress with the high collar. And the black feather cloak. “Then I suggest you start warming up.” 

Okay then. No nonsense. No pleasantries. And clearly no food either. Regina wanted her to get started right away. Emma cleared her throat and then began her usual warmup routine. The odd little yawns you had to do in order to open up your throat properly, the ‘hmm’s’ you had to hum in a low range. The do-re-mi’s. Up and down, up and down. First lower end of the pitch range, and then to a higher key. And then repeat it again. Up and down the scale like a little bird. Lip trills followed. To do a lip trill, you closed your lips loosely, pout them slightly and blow air through them. It created a strange little sound, and you looked dumb while doing it, but it was an important exercise, and it worked. Then followed the more bodily part of the warm up. Roll your shoulders. Tense them. Then relax. Make your rib expand and then tug in your lower belly. Inhale. Hold the air in for a beat and then relax and blow it all out. Emma had been through this warmup routine a million times before. She could probably do it asleep. 

When she was done with the routine, Emma looked expectantly at Regina, and Regina could probably sense that. She looked back up at Emma. “Excellent. Shall we begin then, Little Swan?”

“Yes,” Emma said, feeling nervous like never before. 

“We’ll start with ‘Think of Me’,” Regina decided. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“It’s a beautiful song,” Emma said spontaneously. “When did you compose it?” 

“Years ago. The melody is relatively uncomplicated, and the lyrics aren’t too heavy. It’s excellent beginner stuff.”

The way she said ‘beginner stuff’ made Emma tilt her head in curiosity. Regina wasn’t exactly a beginner when it came to singing. “Did you compose this song for... anyone?” stupid. There was only one other person Regina could have composed this song for. Only one other person who had been a beginner. 

And Regina of course didn’t answer the question. “Less talking, more singing, Little Songbird,” she said simply and began playing the melody to ‘Think of Me’. There was no doubt that she knew this song like the back of her own hand. She could play without looking at the piano keys. Her eyes was on Emma, but it was completely impossible to know what she was thinking. Her expression was unfathomable, and her mouth a thin line and partially hidden behind the half-mask. Was she on edge? If Emma didn’t know any better, she would say yes. But why was Regina on edge? What did she have to be on edge about?

“Little Swan.”

Oh, right, yes. Singing. That’s why she came here. To sing. Emma cleared her throat, but for whatever reason, her voice was way shakier and quieter than it normally was when she sang: “’Think of Me, think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you’ll try, on that day, that not so distant day-“

“Stop,” Regina said flatly and abruptly ceased playing the piano. 

“Is something wrong?” Emma asked confused. 

“Yes. You’re not looking at me, that’s what’s wrong.”

Oh. That was true. Emma had automatically fixed her gaze on the floor when she started singing. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s try that again. From the beginning, Little Songbird,” Regina said tonelessly, and her long fingers elegantly flew over the piano keys as she started playing again. 

Emma took another quick breath and started again. In an even shakier voice than before: “T-think of Me, think of me... fondly, when we’ve said goodb-“

“You’re still not looking at me.” Regina interrupted and stopped playing.

Emma blushed and muttered an apology. Once again, her gaze had wandered to the floor and settled there. 

“I’m well aware that I look dreadfully spooky,” Regina said and almost sounded amused. “But I expect you to at least make an effort.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll try again. And you don’t look spooky,” Emma rambled off. 

Regina ignored that and started playing again. “One more time.”

Emma started singing again, and this time she really did her utmost to look at Regina. But it was hard, so hard. Because Regina was looking right back at her. The constant eye contact was making Emma feel squirmish, and this time she was the one to stop before she could start the second verse. 

Regina sighed deeply. “Tell me, Little Swan, did you come here tonight to waste my time?”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. “I’m really trying!”

“You’re not,” Regina said flatly and pushed a strand of dark hair away from her eyes. “You’re not even making an effort.”

“Yes, I am!” Emma said tightly and felt that ‘feistiness’ Regina had mentioned the last time flare up within her. “I AM trying!”

“Prove it,” Regina challenged. “Let’s try again.” 

The soft melody from the piano once again floated into the lair, and Emma willed herself to keep looking at Regina as she sang. “’Think of Me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye, remember me, once in a while, please promise me, you’ll try, on that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me.” what was wrong with her tonight?! Maybe she was looking at Regina now, but her voice sounded terrible. All shaky and quiet. But this time Regina did not stop her. She just kept playing with one hand and gestured for Emma to continue with her other hand. 

And so Emma continued, fully aware that she was not doing a good job. Normally, she liked the sweet fragility her voice had, but tonight it was too much. She sounded completely untrained like she had never sung before, and her eyes kept searching for the floor. “’Think of August, when the world was green. Don’t think about the way things might have been. Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned; imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my m-mind! R-recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we’ll never do, there will never be a day, when I won’t t-think of you....” that was terrible. She was stuttering and croaking and wasn’t even able to sustain the tone like she was supposed to. Emma felt like she had never been any worse than she was being right now. There was one more short verse, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to finish this disaster of a rehearsal. She bit her lip, shook her head and then looked at the floor. This was terrible. She was terrible. She shouldn’t have come here tonight. 

And Regina was far from pleased. “What’s going on?” she asked dryly. 

“I don’t know,” Emma mumbled half-heartedly. 

“Yes, you do. Tell me!”

“I’m... nervous!” Emma defended. 

“Nervous,” Regina skeptically repeated.

“Yes! You’re making me nervous!”

Regina paid little attention to such trivialities. “I can’t feel you,” she said simply. “You stand there and you sing. But that’s it. There’s no emotion behind the words you’re singing. And you’re stiff as a board.” She shook her head. “You look like I’m putting you through the horrors of hell, Little Swan!”

“I am trying!” Emma said a tad too loudly. “I really am! But you’re making me nervous when you look at me!” 

“Of course I’m looking at you,” Regina said dryly. “I’m your teacher. I’m supposed to look at you in order to make sure your technique is correct.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts.” Regina interrupted sharply. “If it makes you nervous to look at me, how are you going to be able to sing for a crowd when you’re on the stage, hmm? How are you going to look at the audience and captivate them?”

“I’m always with the rest of the choir when I’m on the stage. And I’m standing in the backrow. I can’t see the audience!” Emma pointed out. “So I’m not actually-“

“’Think of Me, think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye-“ Regina effortlessly sang in that soft mezzo-soprano and interrupted Emma. “Remember me, once in a while please promise me, you’ll try. On that day- that not so distant day...”

“’When you are far away and free, if you ever find a moment; spare a thought for me!’” Emma heard herself sing. She just sort of fell into the rhythm without thinking about it. How odd. 

Regina played the interlude and then quietly sang: “’And though it’s clear, though it was always clear, that this was never meant to be, if you happen to remember; stop, and think of me...’”

“’Think of August when the trees were green, don’t think about the way things might have been,’” Emma sang. She could actually feel her voice growing just a little bit stronger. A little less insecure. 

“’Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned-‘”

“’Imagine me! Trying too hard to put you from my mind! Think of me, please say you’ll think of me, whatever else you choose to do! There will never be a day when I won’t think of you!’” Yes, the words were most definitely coming easier to Emma now. Her voice sounded clear and sweet. She had stopped stuttering, and her gaze had lifted from the floor at last. Not quite looking at Regina, but at a point above her head. 

“See, not so bad, is it?” Regina said only a tad jokingly as she stood from the piano.

“Only because you’re singing with me,” it slipped out of Emma. 

Regina rolled her dark eyes. Her black feather cloak dragging behind her as she went. She was coming towards Emma. “’Flowers fade-“

“’The fruits of summer fade,” Emma automatically picked up. “They have their season, so do we...” 

Regina was now standing quite close to her, and then, barely even touching her, she hooked a finger underneath Emma’s chin and thereby forced her to look her in the eye. 

Emma got nervous again. “’B-but please promise me that sometimes, you will think...’”

“This is the cadenza,” Regina told her. Her finger was still hooked under Emma’s chin. “Start slowly. Work your way up to the climax.”

Emma could feel her palms going damp, and her first ‘ahh-ahh-ahh’ were tentative. Anxious. 

“Come on,” Regina encouraged. “Put a bit more strength behind it, Little Swan. Find your voice.”

And Emma did. Started slowly and then climbed up, up, up. Perhaps there still was some uncertainty left in her voice, but she sang the cadenza. Maybe not quite as powerful as she had hoped, but her voice was still fairly solid and didn’t break when she reached the climax of the song. The last ‘of me’ hung in the air. Floated like a fragile soap bubble but did not burst. And she felt quite proud of herself. “I did it,” she said and felt a little smile forming on her lips. 

“You did,” Regina said and moved her finger away from underneath Emma’s chin. “And you were so busy singing you didn’t even notice that you were still looking at me.”

“Oh,” Emma said. That was true. She had concentrated on singing and nothing else. 

“Not bad for a first time,” Regina said and stepped away from Emma. “But your cadenza is weak. Not as controlled as one could hope. One more time.”

“Okay,” Emma said and had a feeling that her voice was lacking enthusiasm. That wasn’t the case, but she did not like that the Phantom had stepped away from her. 

“Begin,” Regina commanded dryly.

Emma wanted to. She really did. But for whatever reason, she couldn’t seem to get started. Suddenly, she felt nervous and tense again. Her palms were damp. God, what on earth was the matter with her? She was fine a moment ago! 

“Is there a problem, Little Swan?”

“No.” Emma pulled herself together. Or, tried to. She wasn’t doing a very good job. “T-think of me... Think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye, r-remember me, once in a w-while....” She flushed. Felt like an idiot. She was croaking more than she was singing. Why couldn’t she just do this? She had done it five seconds ago! Why was this so difficult?!

“-’Please promise me you’ll try. On that day- that not so distant day- when you are far away and free, if you ever find a moment...’”

“’Spare a thought for me!’” Emma finished the verse and felt her confidence return. 

It all became easier when Regina was singing with her. When their voices intertwined. Regina’s deeper mezzo with Emma’s light soprano. Their voices sort of wrapped around each other and filled the lair with the most beautiful sound Emma had heard. It filled her. She could feel the music in her chest, and it didn’t matter that Regina had her rehearsing ‘Think of Me’ over and over again. Emma happily did so. Her confidence was growing with each time she sung it. Every time she succeeded in making her voice climb higher and do the cadenza was a triumph. And hearing Regina sing only intensified the strange feeling she had in her chest. It made her forget that it was the same song she was singing again and again. It made her forget everything, really. Even to look at the floor. Now she found it to be more interesting to see Regina’s reaction to her singing. Regina liked it. Emma could see it. The masked woman wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look bored either. She had started to walk around in the lair while singing with Emma. Her voice was incredible. Took Emma’s breath away. Made her own voice pale in comparison to it. But Emma wasn’t jealous. She didn’t want Regina’s voice. She only wished to listen to it forever. Surely, that wasn’t too much to ask, was it? 

“Again,” Regina commanded, and Emma started to sing again. Regina still sang with her, but Emma wasn’t as nervous anymore. Her voice was still growing stronger and more confident. 

“Don’t stand stiffly like a board,” Regina scolded. “You are singing, Little Songbird. You’re performing. Captivate your audience.”

“’And though it’s clear, though it was always clear, that this was never meant to be, if you happen to remember, stop and think of me!’” Emma sang as she began walking back and forward in the lair. “’Think of August when the trees were green! Don’t think about the way things might have been!’”. She was almost strutting, really. Exactly as though this lair was her stage and Regina was her audience.   
The audience, Emma was trying to captivate. Was Regina captivated? It was difficult to see. Her expression was pretty unreadable as she stood there and watched Emma sing. But once thing Emma knew.   
And that was that she wanted to captivate Regina. More than anything. She wanted Regina to smile and praise her. To tell her that she was good. That she could feel the music pouring from Emma. That’s what Emma wanted, and she really felt like she was giving it all she had. She was making her voice soar and climb higher. Giving the song her own touch and making it a little bit playful right before beginning the cadenza. She didn’t know if that was allowed or not, but since Regina hadn’t scolded her for it yet, Emma figured that it was. Otherwise Regina would have scolded her for it. A hundred percent. 

Emma began the cadenza and felt a rush of satisfaction when she saw Regina inhale very slightly...

After something that felt like rehearsal number five thousand, Regina offered Emma a cup of water. Emma had no idea where she had gotten the cup or the water from, but she happily accepted the water and drank greedily. All that singing had almost dried her out. 

“Five minutes break,” Regina decided. “And then the real work will begin.”

“Okay,” Emma said and felt a tingle of anxiety somewhere low in her gut. What could be more difficult than what she had done for the past hour or so? 

Regina wouldn’t tell her. She just instructed Emma to drink all the water and then concentrate on her breathing. And Emma could do nothing else besides obeying. 

After several deep breaths, Emma couldn’t resist to ask: “how am I doing?” she was hungering for Regina’s praise. She wanted to hear Regina tell her how well she was doing. 

But Regina only offered the slightest of nods. “You haven’t been through the hardest part yet.” She said dryly. 

“And what is the hardest part?” Emma asked. 

Regina didn’t answer her. Just asked: “is your voice well rested, Little Swan?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You have to be certain,” Regina brushed her off. “Deep breaths.”

Emma did as she was told and took more of those deep breaths.

“This next one is a duet,” Regina said as she picked up the sheets of music. “Have you done many duets, Little Swan?” 

“A few. But not that many,” Emma replied. She had duetted a bit when she still lived at home. But that was mostly just for fun. And you didn’t do a lot of duetting in a choir. That was mostly about singing with the rest of the ensemble and not just one other person. 

“Have you practiced your part?” Regina asked. 

“I have,” Emma nodded. “But why is your part inked over?”

“Because it’s not something you have to worry about,” Regina said simply. “Your job is to focus on singing your own part. Come along.” 

Emma followed her over to the piano where Regina sat down. “I’m going to play the melody for you. I’m sure you already have an idea on how to sing this song, but a bit of extra certainty can’t harm.” She began playing, and as Emma watched her long fingers elegantly skate across the piano keys, she felt the excitement bubble in her belly again. She was being tutored by the Phantom of the Opera. This was a real lesson. Emma felt extremely privileged. She had heard Regina sing more tonight than she had for the past month. Which almost was enough to make you forget that this was in fact a lesson. Hearing Regina sing was something that could make you forget both time and place. It was something that made you feel lightheaded without fully knowing why. 

“Now you know the melody,” Regina said as she stopped playing. “In a moment you’re going to sing.”

“Okay,” Emma said and licked her lips nervously. She could do that. Yes, she would have to start the song on her own, but Regina would join in. They would still be singing together.

“This is going to be hard,” Regina said simply. “I am going to push you harder than you have ever been pushed. You’re going to wish that you hadn’t asked for a lesson. But if you succeed, I guarantee you it’s going to be worth it. You are going to feel the music like you have never felt it before. You’ll hear your voice soar in ways it has never soared before.”

“And if I... If I can’t do it?” Emma asked nervously. She had no idea what Regina wanted her to do, but she knew that it was going to be nerve-wracking. 

Regina shrugged slightly. “Then I’ll know exactly what you’re made of, Little Swan. Are you ready to begin?” 

“Y-yes.” She wasn’t completely sure she was, but there was no turning back. 

Regina’s fingers once again glided over the piano keys as she played the prelude to the piece. The roar of the piano filled the lair and left Emma wondered how it was possible that it couldn’t be heard upstairs. The music was so loud. She could feel the pulse from the piano somewhere behind her navel. 

Regina looked up at her, and Emma knew what that meant. It was her turn to sing. She licked her lips once more and then began to sing the song the Phantom of the Opera had written and composed: “’In sleep she sang to me, in dreams she came. That voice which calls to me and speaks my name, and do I dream again? For now I find, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!’” she had only sung one verse and she already felt out of breath and dizzy. This was different from ‘Think of Me’. This was a song ABOUT the Phantom of the Opera. There had to be parts of the song telling her more about Regina. 

“’Sing once again with me, our strange duet,’” Regina sang in that dark mezzo-soprano, and Emma felt a jolt of something. “’My power over you, grows stronger yet-‘”

Emma felt another jolt of something and felt her gaze wavering. She was supposed to look at Regina, but that felt like a terrible hard task right now. 

“’And though you turn from me,’” Regina sang almost warningly, willing Emma to look at her once more. “’To glance behind, The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind!’”

Emma felt like she was breaking out in cold sweat. Not because she was afraid. No, she was definitely not afraid. She was... She was something she couldn’t really name. And she had to keep singing. “’T-those who have seen your face, draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear...’”

“’It’s me, they hear...’” Regina sang lowly, almost whispering the words rather than singing them. 

Emma’s belly flipped in a way that wasn’t even remotely unpleasant and without fully knowing why, she brought an arm down and wrapped it around her lower belly as she sang: “’Your spirit and my voice, in one combined, The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!’” she was pleasantly surprised to discover that Regina was singing along with her on this part. Their voices were intertwining yet again. Regina’s spirit. Emma’s voice. Exactly like Regina had written in the song.

Regina stopped playing the piano and abruptly stood from the chair. Her walk around in the lair was slow and almost cat like, the cloak was dragging behind her, and her voice was soft and smooth like butter as she sang: “’In all your fantasies, you always knew, that woman and mystery...’”

“W-were both in you,’” Emma replied and turned around so she could see Regina who was now standing behind her. “’And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!’” another verse they sang together. Now Emma was actually sweating. She could feel beads of sweat gather in the column of her throat. Could feel her glasses slide down her nose where it had gotten sweaty. Her palms were slippery, and it felt like she couldn’t breathe properly. 

“’She’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!’” Emma sang and felt triumphant. This was the end of the song. She had done it. And even though it had been tough, it hadn’t been as tough as Regina had claimed it would be. She had probably just tried to rile her up. 

“Vocalize,” Regina commanded. “From ‘she’s there, the Phantom of the Opera’. Go on.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the end of the song anyway. There was more. Vocalizing. Like in ‘Think of Me’. But Emma could do that. “’She’s there, the Phantom of the Opera,’” she sang and then began vocalizing. A bit hesitantly at first, but as Regina made ‘go on’ gestures with her hands, with more certainty. 

“That’s it,” Regina said. “Climb the latter.”

And Emma climbed. Her voice was rising in both volume and pitch. Higher and higher, and she felt panic stir somewhere low in her gut. She had sung falsetto before, but if she went any higher, she would stray into unknown territory, and that was something Emma never did. 

“Keep going!” Regina commanded. She had sensed Emma’s hesitation. “Keep singing!”

Emma couldn’t. If she went any higher, her voice would break, she was sure of it. She was going to fail. Make a fool of herself. She wanted to do what Regina asked of her, but she couldn’t. Emma stopped singing, the last note still ringing in her ears. She looked down at the floor.

“Why are you stopping?” Regina asked, disappointment filling her voice and filling Emma’s mouth with a sour taste. 

“Because I... I can’t,” she mumbled and pushed her glasses up her nose. 

“Can’t or won’t?” Regina asked plainly.

“Can’t.” Emma said immediately. 

“Because you’re afraid of failing or because you truly believe that you are incapable of going any higher and thereby damaging your voice?”

“Because I’m- I’m afraid of damaging-“

“No,” Regina interrupted non-bothered. “You’re lying.”

“I am not!” Emma said and felt the irritation rise in her body. “I can’t go any higher!”

“Yes, you can,” Regina said, cloak dragging over the floor as she came closer to Emma. “Your voice is not what’s stopping you right now. Your head is. If you wanted to, you could go that high. Believe me. Your voice is capable of so much more than this.”

“How do you know?!” Emma snapped. “You can’t possibly-“

“Oh, yes I can, Little Swan. I’ve heard you sing for quite a while now, and I can sense all the unused potential your voice has. It’s just laying dormant and waiting to be unlocked! You are disrespecting music by not doing so! You can do so much more, Little Swan, and tonight is your chance to do so. Tonight is your chance to prove yourself!”

“Why do I have to prove myself?!” Emma said exasperated. “And why do you care so much about this?!”

“Because you are my student!” Regina snapped. “And my students doesn’t just give up because they’re scared of failing! They give it all they have and doesn’t stop until they’re absolutely CERTAIN they can’t do it... But perhaps you’re not a student of mine after all?”

“I AM your student!” Emma hissed and curled her hands into fists. Her mind was all over the place. She wanted to do this. She wanted to see the look of pride on Regina’s face when she succeeded. But she also wanted to yell that she couldn’t do this and run out of the lair.

“Then. Prove. It!” Regina snapped. “Prove that you have what it takes, Little Swan. Prove that you truly are my next student who’s here because she truly wants to learn! Set the music in you free!”

“Fine!” Emma almost yelled. “I’ll try! But if I can’t do it-“

“Then I know what you’re made of,” Regina brusquely finished the sentence and then sang: “’she’s there, The Phantom of the Opera...’”

Emma started vocalizing again. The first part of it wasn’t that hard. That was all about climbing up that latter, and that was something Emma knew how to do. Her voice filled the otherwise quiet lair. There was no piano to accompany her this time. She was the one to make the music. And she was terrified at failing. Regina had looked right through her. Emma was horrified at the idea of her voice breaking.

Regina kept egging her on: “That’s it,” she said. “Take it up a key, Little Swan. You can do it.”

Emma did so. And she felt how the anxiety was starting to take home in her belly like a solid rock. Something hot was burning behind her eyelashes. She was starting to reach that frightening, unknown territory she had never dared straying into before. She was going to fail. Her voice was going to shatter like a piece of glass and leave sharp splinters in its wake. And then Regina would be so terribly disappointed in her. So, so disappointed. 

“Higher!” Regina ordered. She had started walking back and forward in the lair again. Like a panther or a leopard ready to pounce on its prey.

“C-c-c-can’t!” Emma gasped in between singing. She felt lightheaded. In desperate need for breath. 

“Yes, you can! You’re practically already doing it! Go higher! Last step on the latter! Do not disappoint me now!”

No, the last thing Emma wanted was to disappoint Regina. She wanted to do this. More than she had ever wanted to do anything else in her life. Right now, this was more important than life or death. To prove herself. To prove that she was indeed the Phantom of the Opera’s student. She tipped her head back, throat bobbing when she let her voice climb the last step up the latter. For a moment it felt like it was going to break and come out flat, but it didn’t. She didn’t know how it was possible, but somehow, Emma had managed to force her voice up. Higher than ever before. It felt like her throat was going to break apart. Like ALL of her was going to break apart! Everything in her was pulled tight, too tight. Her voice could crumble at any given moment. Crumble and tumble off the walls to lie in the dust on the floor.

“That’s it,” Regina said almost softly. “Sustain, Little Swan!”

God, Emma had sustained before. But not in this key. And never under this much pressure. She could barely recognize the voice coming out of her mouth. Couldn’t believe that it truly belonged to her. So loud, so clear. So completely pure. Emma felt intoxicated. Her blood was boiling, but at the same time she could feel the gooseflesh on her skin. Or perhaps it was rather a tingling sensation she could feel. A tingling sensation that started on top of her head and crept down her spine to wrap around her front and settle in her belly. If she wasn’t singing, Emma would have gasped. And if she wasn’t so intoxicated by what she was feeling, she probably would have been embarrassed. Her voice was the only sound dominating the lair. There was no choir to accompany her this time. It was only her. Doing this entirely on her own. But how? How was she doing this? It felt like her chest was going to explode, like her throat was on fire. Burning. Burning, burning, burning! Hot tears were springing from her eyes, but Emma could do nothing to wipe them away. She could only sing like she had never sung before. Her hands were trembling. Or perhaps her entire body was trembling. The only part of her that wasn’t trembling was her voice. She was actually doing it. She was sustaining like she had never sustained before. 

“That’s it,” Regina said, almost cooing. Her voice was probably the only thing preventing Emma from dying right on the spot. “Sing for me! Sing!” her voice was booming through the lair, and through hooded eyes, Emma could see how she untied her cloak and tossed it onto the floor. “Sing!” she demanded once more, now running long fingers through her dark hair.

Her words made the impossible possible. Emma’s voice rose in volume again, and the slight flatness that had crept in, disappeared. A change was happening within Emma. She was singing because she wanted to. Not because she was being ordered to. She was singing as much for her own sake as she was singing for Regina’s now. She felt like she was soaring, like her chest was filled to the brim with music just begging to be released. Now Emma was releasing it! She was letting it all out and letting her voice soar towards the ceiling like a bird. Her body was arching forward with each time she sang and sustained. She felt it. Felt the music in her entire body like waves washing over her. 

“Yes! Sing!” the Phantom commanded and crooked a finger in Emma’s direction. 

As pulled by a string, Emma started walking towards Regina. Or perhaps gliding was a more accurate description. Somehow it felt like Regina was in control of her. Like she was in control of Emma’s voice. She was singing through Emma, was urging the music to come out of her, and with each ‘come hither’-motion of her finger, she was urging Emma forward. There was no stumbling. Emma was walking with confidence. Singing with confidence. Going towards that beacon of light Regina had turned into. 

And perhaps Regina knew that. When Emma was within reach, Regina grabbed her hands tightly and squeezed. “Sing!” she said, and her voice was most definitely thicker now. Rougher. 

Emma forced herself to look at Regina through her hooded eyes, and she saw that Regina’s chest was rising and falling quicker than before. Beads of sweats had gathered at the column of her throat. Her dark eyes seemed almost black. It should have terrified her. But the feelings rushing through Emma were so very far from being frightening ones.

“Sing!” Regina hissed, released Emma’s hands and grasped her shoulders instead. Emma found herself being spun around so her back was turned to Regina. Now she was facing the empty lair, facing all the candles. She could sense Regina somewhere right behind her. Emma wanted to turn around and face her again, but she couldn’t move. She was standing rooted to her spot. Captivated by her own singing.

“Sing, my Angel of Music!” Regina groaned, and Emma felt her hot breath on her neck, and her dark hair tickling her skin. 

Something completely shattered within Emma at that. Angel of Music. Regina had called her an angel of music. Maybe that was exactly what she was right now in this moment where she was one with the music. 

She felt how her mouth fell open completely, how the music rose and rose in her body. Emma had little control over her actions right now. She threw her head back, lifted her arms and then the music exploded out her wide open mouth in the highest, purest earth shattering note she had ever reached. Strong and fragile at the same time. Unearthly, yet the most real thing Emma had ever experienced. 

Her voice soared higher and higher and threatened to take Emma with it. The Angel of Music was flying. For a moment, everything was oblivion, for a moment, Emma had no idea where to go from here, because nothing would ever be the same again. She was changed. She was made of music. From the top of her head and to her toes. She could feel the music coil low in her belly and then explode in the most pleasant tingles that seemed to fill her veins and leave her gasping. Right in this moment, everything was music. SHE was made of music and her soul was soaring. 

But then her chest heaved for breath and on its own accord, one of Emma’s hands came up to clutch at her burning, aching throat. She stumbled backwards slightly and half-expected to fall backwards. 

She didn’t. Before she could. She felt stronger arms catch her and keep her upright. On shaky legs, Emma whirled around, still gasping for air, still clutching at her throat, with tears springing from her eyes and still with the last tone ringing in her ear. “I...” she croaked. “I f-f-felt it!” she was completely beside herself and could barely speak. 

“That's what I'm talking about,” Regina said simply. Her expression was unreadable yet again. 

Emma wanted to say more. She wanted to thank Regina for having shown her what she was capable of. And she wanted to ask her about the ‘Angel of Music’-comment. But the lair had started to blur around the edges, and Emma’s legs felt weak, so weak. She was exhausted, and there was no stopping her eyelids from sliding closed. 

For the second time in her life, Emma fell unconscious in the Phantom’s lair, completely giving in to the exhaustion that rushed over her, and disregarding the fact that she had no idea whether she would end up on the floor or not....

To Be Continued.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN LITTLE BONUS FACT: Having Emma fainting after vocalizing and hitting E6 is inspired by the Hungarian version of the musical in which Christine does indeed faint after having reached that high note.


	23. And Through Music, My Soul Began To Soar

Emma’s eyelashes fluttered. Then her fingers twitched slightly. For a moment she wasn’t sure whether she was asleep or still dreaming, but then she became aware of a sound near her ear. Not a loud or sharp sound. Not the kind of sound that would send you out of bed with a jolt, but a soft, gentle sound. After a second, Emma realized that it was in fact a little melody. One she didn’t recognize. 

Emma didn’t open her eyes quite yet. It felt like she was in some sort of dream still. But despite her strange state, she became aware that the softness she was laying on, didn’t quite feel like her own mattress. And the softness covering her body didn’t feel like her own duvet either. In fact it felt.... feathery. 

Feathery? 

Emma finally opened her eyes. The world blurred together for a moment, and she blinked. But the world was still blurry. She brought a hand up to her face. She wasn’t wearing her glasses anymore. How strange. She sat up, blinked again in an attempt to get everything to make sense. After a moment, it did. And she knew exactly why this didn’t feel like her bed. Because it wasn’t. It was a boat. And the soft material covering her, was a cloak. A feather cloak. She wasn’t in her room.

Emma took a deep breath. Her throat immediately protested. It was burning a little bit. But that didn’t matter. Emma shivered when the memories from last night came rushing back to her. She had... she had sung. It seemed like such a small word compared to what actually had happened last night. Because she had done far more than just sung. She had been made of music. Every never ending in her had been standing on edge, and it felt like she had been made of music. But there had been something else too. Emma flushed when she remembered the tingling sensation that had exploded in her belly right as she sang the last note. The memory even made her wrap an arm around her belly exactly like she had done last night. Her heart started beating too fast in her chest. In the same fashion it had done when she had felt those tingles in her belly. Actually, she had felt them when Regina sang too. That had taken her breath away as much as sustaining had. And she had... fainted. Emma quickly rolled her shoulders, patted her legs arms and checked the back of her head for bruises and/or scrapes. She couldn’t find any. So maybe she hadn’t ended up on the floor. But the big question was... how did she end up in Regina’s boat-bed? She didn’t walk here on her own. She would have been able to remember that. And she would have remembered to take off her glasses. Or maybe she wouldn’t. But someone had taken off her glasses. And put them on the little table next to the boat-bed. And her shoes were missing too. And her cardigan. 

Emma wasn’t dense. She knew that she was still in the Phantom’s lair. And she knew that she probably didn’t end up in the boat-bed on her own. Nor did she take off her shoes, cardigan and glasses herself. And the realization of WHO had helped her to bed and removed her shoes, glasses and cardigan made Emma blush and squirm. But not in an uncomfortable manner. She shook her head and tried to snap out of it, but then she once again became aware of the soft music playing close to her ear. She turned her head and quickly spotted the little monkey music box. The monkeys little arms were moving mechanically and making it look like the two cymbals in its hands were knocking together. It was a beautiful melody it was playing. For a moment, Emma just stared mesmerized at the monkey, but then she once again remembered where she was and carefully pushed the feather cloak off of her. Regina had put the cloak over her as a blanket of sorts. That was.... really kind of her. 

Emma slowly got out of bed and took a moment to steady herself. She felt a little woozy. Her legs were still weak. And her throat hurt. It was actually burning really badly. Emma winced. She couldn’t sing today. Not even if she tried. And plus, she felt completely worn out. Drained. God, how long had they even rehearsed last night? Emma wasn’t sure. She ran a finger through her messy hair. Grabbed her glasses and put them back on. The world instantly became sharp and her head less fuzzy. She took her shoes under one arm, her cardigan under the other and then she then padded out of the ‘boat room’. She could hear the sound of a piano playing, and when she stepped into the lair itself, she found Regina sitting by the piano. Obviously, she wasn’t wearing her cloak, but she had also changed out of the black dress with the high collar. Now she was wearing a black velvet gown instead. With a red scarf tied around her neck for some reason. It looked a bit odd. Didn’t really fit the style of the dress. 

She wasn’t looking at Emma. Her attention was solely on the piano.

Emma cleared her aching throat. “H-hi.”

Regina very briefly looked up. “Well, look who finally woke up.”

“Good morning,” Emma said half-heartedly. “It IS morning, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Emma shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Looked around in the lair and felt her cheeks pinken when she asked: “did you, uhh...” she couldn’t get the words out. Terrific. 

“Did I what?” Regina asked. Still without looking up.

“Did you put me to bed?” Emma blurted, instantly regretting the choice of words. It sounded so.... childish. Like she was some little kid Regina had cared for. 

Regina stopped playing for a split second. “Yes.” 

“Oh.”

“Would you rather that I had left you on the floor?” Regina asked. Apparently, Emma’s tone had ticked her off. 

“N-no!” Emma said startled. “I was just... wondering.”

“I see. Well, wonder no further, Little Swan.” 

“Did you take off my shoes?” Emma asked and looked down at her bare feet. 

“Yes.” 

“And my glasses?”

“Mhmm.” 

“And my.... my cardigan?”

“Yes,” Regina snipped. “I did in fact do that. And I also put my cloak over you. Any more questions?”

Yes, Emma did in fact have one more question. “Where did YOU sleep?”

Regina sighed deeply and pointed to the corner where the bundle of blankets were.”

“Oh,” Emma said. That did not look very comfortable. “You could have put me there instead.”

“You would probably have complained if I did,” was the dry response. 

“You could have taken me back to my room then?” Emma suggested. 

Regina scoffed. “It had been a long night and I was tired, so I let you sleep in there instead. Do you have anything else you want to complain about?”

“I’m not complaining,” Emma protested. “I was actually going to say thank you.”

“For what, exactly?” Regina asked dryly. 

“For not letting me lie on the floor?” Emma suggested and felt a bit dumb. 

The Phantom let out a bark of a laughter. “You’re welcome. I don’t have any breakfast, so if you’re hungry you have to leave.” She began playing the piano again.

But Emma didn’t leave. Instead she repeated what she had already said once: “thank you.”

“Yes. I heard you.” Regina said, positively unimpressed. 

But Emma still wasn’t done. “For getting me to.... sing.”

Regina’s only reaction to that was a very slight shrug. 

“How did you... How did you know that I could do that?” Emma asked curiously. She wasn’t particularly interested in ending the conversation and going back to her room. 

The sound of the piano stopped abruptly. Regina looked up and flashed Emma a smile that was positively sinister. “What makes you think that I knew?”

“I...” naturally, Emma grew doubtful. Was it possible that Regina hadn’t known?

But then Regina barked out a laughter. “I could see the potential, Little Swan. It was locked away inside you. Very frustrating to watch.”

“But you made it happen,” Emma said softly. 

“No, you little fool,” Regina replied, by no means unkindly. “YOU did. I merely gave you a push.”

Many pushes, yes. Emma’s heart started thudding in that particular way again upon remembering what Regina had said last night. ‘Sing, my Angel of Music!’. That’s what she had called Emma. Angel of Music. That... That was what Christine had called Regina. But last night, Regina had called Emma an angel of music. What did that... What did that mean?

“Last night,” Emma began quietly.

Regina let out a sound. Not quite a yes, but nevertheless a way to let Emma know that she was listening. 

“You... You called me an angel of mus-“

“I said many things last night,” Regina interrupted, voice a tad sharp now. “To ensure that you would keep singing and not loose faith in yourself. I could see the doubt in your eyes.”

Emma nodded. Yes, she had felt so very doubtful last night. “I didn’t think I would be able to-“

“The people who surprises us the most are often ourselves,” Regina interrupted. 

“I- yes.” Emma nodded. She wasn’t quite sure where the Phantom’s philosophic mood was coming from, but it was a hundred times better than hearing her tell Emma to go away. Maybe, if Emma was fortunate, she could stay a little while longer. Despite her hunger, she didn’t want to leave quite yet. She wanted to stay here. And listen. Regina had begun playing the piano again. And humming lowly to the tunes she was playing. Emma recognized the melody. It was that ‘Music of the Night’ song Regina had been writing on a while back. Had she finished it? 

Emma sat down on the stone floor by the piano. It seemed silly to just stand there. She wasn’t about to leave. She preferred listening to her unlikely teacher instead. And she was fortunate. Her teacher had just started singing instead of humming. Her voice was soft as velvet and dark as the night itself: “’ Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, purge your thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar....’”

Naturally, Emma closed her eyes, and she trembled at Regina’s voice. The hushed, yet completely clear ‘soar’, and how the last node just hung in the air took her breath away all over again. She wasn’t just witnessing someone singing. No, what she was witnessing here was something special. Something that left you breathless. Emma realized that the tingling sensation low in her gut had come back. Perhaps even more intense than last night. Definitely not an unpleasant feeling. Not at all. She felt a bit lightheaded, but not in a bad way. She rubbed her arms. Had gotten goosebumps again. 

“’And you'll live as you've never lived before,’” Regina sang in an almost hushed tone, but her voice grew stronger as she continued: “’ Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you, open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight!’”

Music shall caress you. Yes, that was a pretty good description of how Emma was feeling right now. Every tune sung, every key played felt like featherlight touches to her skin that left her breathless and had her skin tightening in goosebumps. 

Regina went back to humming and let the piano do the ‘singing’ instead. She played the rest of the melody and concluded it with a soft ‘pling-pling’ on the piano.

“That was beautiful,” Emma said earnestly. 

“What?” Regina’s head snapped up. “Oh, you’re still here. Go away. I want to be alone.”

“Alright,” Emma said a little hurt at the brusque tone and got back on her feet. She wrestled on her shoes and cardigan.

“There will be no lesson tonight,” Regina said. “But I expect you to bring me dinner.”

“Of course!” Emma smiled widely now. “I will.” 

“Excellent. Goodbye.” 

Emma obediently walked towards the lair’s opening, but instead of slipping through it and beginning her walk back through the dark tunnel, she turned around. Asked: “Regina?”

Regina’s only reaction was silence. 

“Do you think I feel the music now?” Emma asked quietly. 

“That-“ Regina abruptly stood from her chair by the piano. She tugged at the red scarf around her neck. Touched it in an almost caressing manner with her long fingers. “Is something you have to figure out for yourself, Little Songbird.”

Little Songbird. Regina had said that last night too. Emma could feel herself blush when she said: “Last night...”

“Yes?” Regina said. Not quite as lazy and nonchalant sounding anymore. 

“I.... I felt something,” Emma admitted. “I felt the.... music.” That wasn’t even a lie. She HAD felt the music inside her last night. How it made her rise and soar higher and higher. She had felt the pulse of music deep inside her. But there had been something else too. What she had felt a moment ago when Regina sang, was what she had felt last night as well. It had to be because of the music, right? It had to have been because she had felt the music so strongly. 

“Yes,” Regina said simply, now touching the white mask adorning one half of her face. “I know you did.”

“Did you feel the same?” Emma asked curiously. 

Regina offered a very slight smile but no answer. Instead she said: “goodbye, Little Swan. Get out of my lair.”

And so Emma did. Question time was over with. For now. But when she came back tonight, she would have new questions to ask the Phantom of the Opera......

The first thing Emma did when ‘returning to the real world’, was to take off her clothes and take a shower. Coming back to her room she had found out that it was only five in the morning. Nobody had to be out of bed until seven. 

Once done showering, she toweled herself off and changed into another of her white choir dresses. She could have gone back to bed to get a few more hours of sleep, but deep down she knew that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. Not after everything that had happened. 

So instead she ‘snuck’ downstairs to the canteen and helped herself to a cup of tea. It was almost strange to find the canteen deserted except for Madame Potts, the woman in charge of the food and beverage. She had a kind face, a maternal instinct and immediately asked if Emma was feeling okay. Emma smiled and assured that she was doing just fine. Just a bit thirsty, that’s all. She got her tea and was send ‘back to bed’ by Madame Potts. 

But Emma had no intentions of going to bed. Not really. Instead she sat cross-legged on her bed. Head full of thoughts and heart thumping steadily in her chest. She felt completely beside herself, and she couldn’t quite believe that she was capable of sitting here and just drinking tea to soothe her sore throat when it felt like there was a whirlpool going on inside her. She had sung. No, she had been one with the music. For one glorious moment when her voice soared to impossible heights, she, Emma Swan, the girl who was afraid to sing too loudly, had been made of pure music. It had bursted from her fingertips, from her now aching throat, and for a moment it had felt like Emma’s entire body and not just her voice had been soaring. 

Emma sighed and took another sip of her tea. Her throat hurt. Clearing it hadn’t helped. She would probably have to rest if today. She’d tell Mal that her throat was sore. That wasn’t a lie. Anyone could get a sore throat. It was not like Emma had to tell HOW her throat had gotten this sore. But if people knew... Emma giggled a bit to herself in the quiet room. Imagine if her friends knew that she was getting lessons from the Phantom of the Opera. Imagine if they knew what Regina had made her voice do last night. But of course no one would find out. It was a secret. Now more than ever, it felt like a secret. But a very good one. A secret that left Emma with this pleasant tingling sensation up and down her spine. Not unlike the tingling sensation she had felt in her belly last night. What had that even been? Emma wasn’t sure. But she did know that she felt... different. Thought she couldn’t quite pinpoint how and why. It was this subtle, yet persistent feeling inside her. Something was different. 

Something had changed. SHE had changed. 

Emma closed her eyes for a moment. Immediately, Regina appeared for her inner eye. Regina by the piano, letting her long fingers fly across the keys in a fluid, deft motion. Regina walking back and forward while making her sing. Regina grasping her shoulders and spinning her around to face the lair as she sang. 

Regina this, Regina that. 

Emma shook her head. What on earth was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Regina? Everything in her wanted to go back to the lair and stay there for the rest of the day. She was in the backrow of the choir. No one would notice it if she was gone. And she wouldn’t demand anything from Regina. No lesson. No talk. She would sit and be as quiet as a mouse and watch as Regina composed music. If that was what she was doing. Maybe she had gone to sleep. Or maybe she wasn’t even in the lair. Perhaps she was somewhere in the opera. Or maybe even outside. Emma thought about that for a moment. Did Regina ever go outside? Had she EVER been outside the opera? She must have been some point. She didn’t just fall out of the sky to land in the Opera Garnier. She must have had a life before coming here. She must have been a child once. Must have had a family. But where were they? Who were they? And.... Who was Regina? Really, WHO was Regina?

Emma took another sip of her tea and felt her throat ache slightly as the beverage passed through. Once again, her head was full of questions. That was nothing new, but what WAS new, however, was the fact that she would actually try and ask one of the questions when she saw Regina tonight. Emma felt strange entitled to be allowed to ask Regina a question. It felt like they had crossed some kind of line last night. Not in bad way. Just in a way that made Emma feel like she and Regina had reacted some kind of point in their teacher/student relationship. Maybe she was naïve, but she hoped that the lesson last night had shifted something between them. That maybe, perhaps she had proved that she was the Phantom’s next student and therefore was allowed to get to know her just a little bit better. She took another sip of her tea. Maybe she was just being stupid. Maybe getting to know her unlikely mentor categorized as too much to hope for. But Emma was a bit of an optimist. And she was going to ask Regina a question tonight. Just one. And if she didn’t get any answer... Well, then she would be disappointed, but she wouldn’t push it. She didn’t want to potentially make Regina angry with her. Emma so hated when Regina was angry. But she hadn’t been angry last night. Snappy maybe, but not angry. And now when Emma was thinking about it, she was sure she had seen something else in Regina’s eyes too. The moment had been brief, but still there. It had happened when Emma was vocalizing and was walking towards Regina. Regina had looked at her, but at the same time not really. It had been like she wasn’t seeing Emma, but someone else. 

Emma’s fingers curled around the mug. It wasn’t difficult to figure out who that ‘someone’ was......

Emma was almost relieved when the rest of the school woke up and it was time for breakfast although her appetite seemed to have fizzled out. She was poking at her food rather than eating it. Her stomach was full of bubbles and her head full of thoughts. She couldn’t stop thinking about last night and what had happened. How she had sung. The things Regina had said. Maybe she had merely been egging Emma on like she said, but she had said ‘angel of music’. ‘Sing, my Angel of Music’. The words were echoing in Emma’s head and blocking out any other sound there might have been. She couldn’t hear the other choir members chatting. At least she couldn’t until Lily gently elbowed her in the ribs and went: “Em?”

Emma was immediately and mercilessly brought back to reality. “Yeah?” she said, perhaps a tad irritated. She hadn’t been ready to leave the lair just yet. 

“Are you okay?” Lily asked. 

“Of course,” Emma said too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re blushing,” Lily pointed out and raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” Emma squeaked. “No, I’m not!”

“Actually, you are,” Belle said kindly. “Do you feel warm?” 

The truth was that yes, Emma actually did feel kind of warm. But not in the concerned are-you-sick manner Belle meant. She felt warm in a squirmish way. The way you felt when you were thinking about something you weren’t actually supposed to think about. 

“No,” Emma lied. “I feel fine.” she could literally feel how a second wave of blush rose in her cheeks. But this time because of the lie. Not because of anything else. Thank god. 

“You sure?” Lily pressed. “’Cause I noticed that you’re a bit hoarse today too.”

“Oh. Actually, my throat is a bit icky.” Now that wasn’t a lie. 

“Gotcha,” Lily nodded. “Maybe you should take it a little easy today, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” Emma nodded eagerly. She couldn’t sing. Because of her throat. But also because of the way her head was behaving. She couldn’t concentrate. Singing in the choir seemed so   
pointless when thinking about the way her voice had unfolded last night. Yes, today she would spend the time thinking about last night. And tomorrow she would be back to her normal self and once again be satisfied with her place in the backrow in the choir. At least she hoped so. 

“Not hungry?” Belle asked kindly. 

Emma blinked. Realized that she was still pushing her food around on her plate instead of actually eating. She had to get her act together before someone noticed her odd behavior a little too much. She hastily scarfed down some of her breakfast and noted how her throat ached. But she wasn’t entirely unsatisfied with that. She actually sort of.... liked it. Found the ache to be almost pleasant...

Emma was not at all present for todays lessons. She was there physically, but emotionally, she was in the lair, singing for the Phantom of the opera. She was almost counting the hours until she could slip through the mirror again. She stood on her spot in the backrow. Right next to Lily who sang and didn’t pay attention to Emma’s silence. Luckily. Malena didn’t pay attention to it either. Nor Mr. Gold who was there today as well. They were more focused on Ruby’s solo. That suited Emma just fine. She couldn’t exactly sing. Her throat hurt. But it was more than that. When she thought about singing with the others in the choir, the memory of last night’s lesson popped up in her mind. The memory kept swirling in her mind, a little sharper each time. Now Emma was certain that she could in fact remember   
Regina lifting her up and carrying her into the boat bed, but it was probably just her imagination playing tricks on her. She had passed out right after reaching that high note. But she had passed out in Regina’s arms. Literally. And the thought of that made her heart thud just a little faster in her chest. 

Emma watched from the backrow as Ruby sang. The more time passing, the more focused on Ruby their teachers became. After all, she was the one who would get the most attention at the big concert in five months. That suited Emma just fine. With all the attention on Ruby, she could quietly daydream and be transported back to the lair. If she closed her eyes, she could see the lair. The candles. The naked walls. And the strange, throne like chair. The feather cloak often laying on the floor. The feather cloak that had been draped over Emma when she woke up in the boat bed. Emma couldn’t stop thinking about that. Regina could have left her on the floor, but she hadn’t. This was the second time she had carried her to bed, and Emma was acutely aware of that. First all the way back to her bedroom in the dormitory and now to her own bed in the lair. Why not just the blankets in the corner, Emma wondered to herself. Regina could have done that. She could have left Emma on the blankets on the floor and taken the boat bed herself. But instead she had let Emma sleep in the boat-bed. That was a kindness. Couldn’t be anything else. Maybe Regina often acted all bored and disinterested, but she also had a different side. A kinder side. Softer, even. Emma remembered how Regina had squeezed her hands last night when Emma was struggling to reach that impossibly high note. That had been a kindness too and not just pushing.

The thought of Regina’s hands in her own made it even harder for Emma to concentrate, and she reminded herself that this actually was her very official lesson. She could at least TRY to look like she was present and alert even though she most definitely was not. She had never been less interested in singing with the choir than she was today. Regina’s voice had filled her spirit with a strange, sweet sound, and it still felt like there was music in her mind. Her soul was still soaring somewhere in the Phantom’s Lair.

The lessons would have been completely unbearable if it hadn’t been for the fact that she kept seeing ‘something’ move about in box five. A shadow but not quite. A very slight disturbance of the curtain that partially covering the boxes when they weren’t being used. 

Of course Emma knew exactly what that ‘something’ was. They weren’t alone. The way all the little hairs at the back on her neck and on her arms stood to attention told her that. The tightening of her skin as it broke out in goosebumps let her know that Regina was here. Emma even convinced herself that if she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could smell roses very, very faintly. Of course that wasn’t the case. Of course that was merely her mind playing tricks on her, but she was sure she wasn’t wrong about Regina being here. That curtain in box five kept moving about, and once or twice, Emma was convinced she SAW something. The faintest glimpse of dark hair or a white mask. Was that her mind playing tricks on her again? Maybe. But Emma rather preferred believing that she was right, and that she could in fact see Regina. Or even better, that Regina purposefully had let Emma catch a glimpse of her. Yes, Emma really liked the thought of that. That she and Regina were in on this together. Their secret. 

Emma blinked, suddenly realizing something. Regina was here. She was seeing them rehearsing, hearing them sing. And Emma wasn’t singing. That was terrible! Emma had said a lot about wanting to prove that she felt the music and was Regina’s next student. But now she was standing stock still and not singing while Regina was here. Maybe Regina would decide that Emma wasn’t ‘her’ student after all. God forbid it!

Emma opened her mouth, silently prayed that her sore throat would do her bidding, and then she sang. Clearly and pearly and without a tremor. Perhaps her throat was sore from last night, but it was still working. And working beautifully too. Regina’s presence in the room egged her on, and her voice seemed louder and clearer than normally. Emma felt eyes upon her. Lily’s. Ruby’s. Killian’s. And Mal’s. 

“Very good, Emma,” the blonde teacher said slightly surprised. 

Emma blushed. Of course. 

“Keep it up,” Malena continued and smiled at Emma. 

Emma blushed harder. She had a terrible feeling that everyone, including Mr. Gold was looking at her now. Maybe she had been singing a little too loudly. She wasn’t supposed to do that. She was a part of   
the choir. Ruby was the solo singer. And Emma had absolutely no interest in attempting to overshadow that. Not that she ever could, of course. 

She kept singing, but more quietly. And with her head down. 

That same night found Emma hurrying through the dark tunnel. She had been in so much of a hurry that she had forgotten the torch. But tonight she wasn’t afraid of the darkness. Tonight she was mere impatient. She wanted to be back in the lair as soon as possible. She had a whole plate full of food for Regina. And chocolate bars!

But when she was almost at the entrance to the lair, she still stopped in her tracks and listened to the only thing that could stop her from moving right now. Regina was singing. And playing the piano.   
Emma didn’t recognize the melody, but the lyrics left her stunned and open mouthed. 

“’Oh, you are music! Beautiful music, and you are light to me!” Regina sang in that rich and velvet soft mezzo that had haunted Emma all day. All the little hairs on the back of her neck was standing up again. Tonight Regina truly sounded like what she called herself. A ghost in the opera. Her voice was almost ethereal. Hypnotic. It left Emma’s throat completely dry and her palms damp.

“’Oh, you are music! Moonbeams of music, and you are light to.... me.’” A deep sigh, and then: “I finished the song. This was how the end was supposed to go. A shame you never got to hear it.” the sound of the piano stopped, and Regina seemed to be rising from the chair, walking around in the lair and openly talking to herself when she said: “Christine Daaé... the Gods smiled when they imagined you. Oh, Christine...” her voice trailed off, and Emma felt an unexpected pinch in her belly of sadness. Regina sounded so... alone. It made Emma’s throat tighten, and she hurried the rest of the way through the tunnel, stepped into the lair and said: “Regina, I’ve brought you-“

“Stop!” Regina interrupted, voice sharp as a whiplash. “Don’t come any closer!”

Emma stumbled several steps backwards, completely bewildered over Regina’s harsh reply. She couldn’t possibly know that Emma had been lingering in the tunnel and listening for a second. She recovered from the surprise and took a tentative step forward. “What’s-“

“I said, don’t come any closer!” Regina sneered, interrupting again. 

“What did I do?” Emma whispered, now genuinely hurt about the way Regina was almost yelling at her. 

“Turn around,” Regina said. Less angry. But now there was something else in her voice. A touch of vulnerability Emma hadn’t heard before. And she was confused. Didn’t understand why she had to turn around. But then she spotted what was laying on the piano. Regina’s white half-mask. Regina herself was standing in the center of lair. She had turned her back to Emma, but despite that, Emma could still see how she had sort of cupped her hands over one side of her face. She was clearly trying to hide the right side of her face. And Emma couldn’t see anything. Regina’s face was hidden by her hands and the thick curtain of dark hair. 

“Please turn around,” Regina said. Quietly now. Sad almost. And instinctively knowing that Emma hadn’t done her bidding.

Emma’s heart shattered a little bit. Regina saying please. Regina sounding so upset and vulnerable and.... desperate. Emma hadn’t heard that before. Regina was clearly terrified of Emma seeing her face. That saddened Emma too, and for a split second, she felt a wave of curiosity, but she instantly squashed it like a bug under her boot. It was absolutely none of her business what was hiding under Regina’s mask. But it WAS her business that Regina now sounded so panicked, because Emma was the one who pretty much just had bursted in here without announcing herself. This place was Regina’s home, and for whatever reason, Emma seemed to keep forgetting that. She forgot that she couldn’t just come and go as she pleased. She had startled Regina and made her uncomfortable. And now she wanted to make up for that. Instead of turning around, Emma sat the plate of food down on the stone floor and walked over to the piano. She carefully lifted the mask. It felt surprisingly cold in her hands. Cold and smooth. 

“What are you doing?!” Regina asked sharply and still with her back turned to Emma. Maybe she couldn’t see her, but she could still hear that Emma was moving around. “I told you to turn around! Don’t force me to repeat myself!”

“I don’t mean any harm,” Emma said carefully as she approached Regina with the mask. “I don’t. I just... I just figured that it would be easier if I....” she ran out of words but that didn’t matter. Instead of saying anything else, she let her actions speak as she carefully outstretched her hand, thereby outstretching the white half-mask towards Regina. 

Regina still had her back turned to Emma and obviously couldn’t see the gesture. Emma quietly cleared her throat. “Regina?”

“What?!” Regina snapped. “If you think I’m going to turn around then you-“

“No,” Emma said. Now she was the one who interrupted. “I just...” she swallowed. “Here.” she carefully let the white half-mask touch the back of Regina’s hand and could feel how Regina’s hand twitched a little at that. 

“It’s okay,” Emma assured. “I promise I won’t look.”

Regina snatched the mask out of her hand abruptly. “Turn around,” she repeated dully. 

This time, Emma did as she was told and turned around. She kept her gaze fixated on the wall as she heard Regina move about behind her. She would never betray Regina by turning around. No matter how curious she was. 

After a few seconds, Emma heard Regina clear her throat and then ask: “what did you bring for me this time?”

“Mashed potatoes and steak,” Emma replied. 

“Hm. Not bad.”

“Can I... Can I turn around now?” Emma asked carefully.

“Yes.”

Emma turned around. Regina was still standing in the exact same spot. Only exception being that she was now facing Emma. And the white half-mask was back on her face. She was still wearing the black gown and red scarf around her neck. For a moment it looked like she was lost in thoughts, but then she turned around and walked over to where Emma had left the plate of food. She picked it up and sat down on one of the little steps that lead up to the boat-bed like she always did when she was eating. She began eating without a word, and Emma stood silently and insecure about what to say. She wanted to break the silence before it grew too uncomfortable, and she ended up asking: “are you okay?”

A look of disbelief crossed Regina’s face as she glanced up. Then she laughed dryly. “Is there a reason you ask me that, Little Songbird?”

“It’s just- you never take off your...” Emma trailed off and swallowed. 

Regina laughed again. A tad coldly. “It’s not stitched onto my face, you know.”

“I know, I’m just-“

“It’s none of your concern,” Regina brushed her off and scarfed another mouthful of mashed potato down. “Now, are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna sing?” 

“You said there would be no lesson tonight,” Emma reminded her teacher. 

“So? Have you suddenly lost your voice, Little Swan? I could have sworn it was fine earlier.”

Emma refused to be distracted even though Regina had just openly admitted to being present during the earlier rehearsal. “I thought that maybe we could... talk instead?” 

“’Talk’?” Regina repeated and looked positively disbelieving. “What on earth do we have to talk about?” 

“Well...” Emma walked over and sat down on the little step as well. Within reasonable distance of Regina of course. “Maybe I could know something about.... you?”

“Me?” Regina scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Emma asked. “You know things about me.”

“No, I do not.”

“Yes, you do. You know that I was born in Maine and has never been outside of the US until I came here, that I’m an only child and that I nearly didn’t go to Paris because I was scared of leaving my comfort zone,” Emma quickly summed up the things she had told Regina over the last month. 

“And you think that automatically gives you the right to know things about me too?” Regina snipped. 

“No, I just figured that since we’re friends...”

“Friends,” Regina said dully. “You think we’re friends?” 

“Well... yes? I was hoping so anyway,” Emma said truthfully. “But of course I can’t be sure seeing that I’m not very good at making friends....”

“Evidently,” Regina said dryly. “So many peers your age upstairs, and you choose the woman in the catacombs as your friend. I’m concerned about your judgement, Little Swan.”

“How old are you?” Emma blurted. She had been spurred on by Regina’s comment about ‘peers’. 

“Rude,” Regina said without batting an eye. 

Emma immediately shrank some. “Err, sorry, I was just curious. I won’t ask again, though. I can understand why you’d say-“

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Emma blinked confused.

“I don’t know,” Regina repeated slowly. She wasn’t looking at Emma. Only at the plate of food in her lap. 

“You... don’t know how old you are?” Emma asked, flabbergasted and a bit sad. Regina didn’t know how old she was? Had she never celebrated her birthday before?

“I’m not sure,” Regina shrugged. “But I’m guessing either that I’m in my late twenties or early thirties. Between twenty five and thirty five to give it a bit of wiggle room.” 

“You don’t know when your birthday is?” Emma asked. 

“February 14th,” Regina replied without skipping a beat. 

“Oh, that’s good! At least you know when-“

Regina interrupted her by laughing. “It’s not the actual date, Little Swan. It’s one that Christine came up with. She too was shocked that I didn’t know the date of my birthday.”

“Oh,” Emma said quietly. 

“She was very inventive, was Christine. And she found it scandalous that I didn’t know when it was my birthday.”

Emma tilted her head as she looked at Regina. “You never celebrated my birthday?”

“My birth wasn’t worth celebrating.”

“Who said that?” 

The Phantom didn’t answer that. Instead she amended: “I actually did celebrate my birthday one time. With Christine. She brought me a cake. It was nice.”

Emma nodded. She could imagine that. “That was sweet of her.”

“That’s how she was,” Regina said simply. “Considerate. And the only person to ever show me an ounce of kindness. She saw my loneliness.”

Not the only one, Emma thought to herself, but she didn’t say it aloud. Instead she heard herself ask: “what... what about your parents?”

“I don’t have parents.”

“Everyone has parents,” Emma protested. 

“No. They don’t. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll not ask me about them again.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma amended. “I’m just trying to get to know you a little better.”

Regina scoffed and lifted a hand up to the red scarf around her neck. The way she touched the fabric was so soft, so gentle, and Emma immediately grew curious and had to ask: “where did you get that scarf?”

“Christine gave it to me,” Regina answered lightly and even chuckled a bit as she continued: “she had somehow gotten it into her head that I was freezing down here.”

“That was sweet of her,” Emma repeated. 

“Yes. Now sing for me.”

The words send shiver down Emma’s spine, and of course she did as Regina requested. Sang. She ended up choosing ‘Think of Me’, she really liked that song, and every last word of it was forever etched into her mind. 

And as she sang, Regina finished her dinner and tipped her head back. Closed her eyes as she listened, and even though last night’s lesson had been amazing, Emma found that this was pretty incredible too. Just sitting here on the floor and singing for Regina. That was definitely something she wanted to do again soon. Maybe already tomorrow if Regina allowed it. But for now, Emma simply relished in the moment as she sat on the floor and sang for her teacher. Sang for the Phantom of the Opera. Despite the strain last night, Emma's voice still sounded like bells and floated light and easy through the lair like a butterfly reaching for the sky.

When Emma was done singing, Regina smiled a little without opening her eyes. “Good.”

“You really think so?” Emma just had to ask. 

Regina gave no answer. Instead she changed the subject: “You’ve asked me many questions tonight, Little Swan.” 

Emma felt the tips of her ears reddening. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps I’ll tell you my story,” Regina continued. “Someday.” 

“I’d like that,” Emma said quickly. 

Regina opened her eyes, smiled a little as she let a finger follow the contour of the white half-mask. “You say that now, Little Songbird.”

“Is it really that hard to believe that I want to get to know you?”

“No, I’ve never doubted your curiosity. Nor have I questioned how easily tears come to you.”

“And what does that mean?” Emma asked quietly. 

“It means that my story isn’t a happy one. But I’m sure you already know that given where I live,” Regina said and wrapped a strand of her long dark hair around her finger. Almost a bit absentmindedly.

Yes, Emma had sensed as much already. Of course Regina’s story wasn’t a happy one. Of course there were reasons why she became the Phantom of the Opera. Even though Emma barely knew anything, she still got a rather tight feeling in her chest. 

“’Who is this prodigy, who sings to only me?’” Regina sang quietly in her dark timbre. Her voice floated through the lair like a strand blowing in the wind. So quiet and yet so audible. “’She is as innocent and natural as a rose. I’ll do her so much good, we two, I know we could, combine to make a perfect world. Far better than what’s outside...’”

Emma inched closer to the Phantom. She couldn’t help it. Once again, she was spellbound by Regina’s voice...

To Be Continued.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus fact: the two songs Regina are singing "You Are Music" and "Home" is from "Phantom: The American Musical. Music and lyrics written by Maury Yeston, and a book written by Arthur Kopit. The musical was first presented in Houston, Texas in 1991. Richard White played the Phantom and Glory Crampton was Christine.


	24. I Hear Your Fears, Your Torments And Your Tears

Three weeks passed, and Emma continued her lessons. Her official ones with Mal and Mme. Carlotta and the rest of the choir. And the less official ones with Regina in the lar. Those were the lessons she valued the most. Those were the ones that made her heart beat a little faster in her chest. 

A pattern had developed. Before coming down to the lair with Regina’s food, Emma would spend some time in the bathroom. In there she would carefully apply a darker shade of red to her lips. She would redo and intensify her mascara. And she would pull her hair out of the ponytail to let it hang loose. She had gotten it into her head that she looked much more grownup with her hair down. And Emma wanted to look grownup. She wanted to seem more mature than she was. She so wished that she actually was that. Older than seventeen. Emma wanted to be twenty or twenty one. She wanted Regina to treat her as an equal. Not as a kid. If Emma was older, maybe Regina wouldn’t roll her eyes or scoff or look haughty all the time. She wanted to show Regina that she was more than a child. Maybe she even wanted to impress Regina a little. But that was not something she willingly admitted to herself. 

What she did know, however, was that she had to redo her makeup after dinner. If she arrived at breakfast wearing red lipstick and with her hair down, people would ask questions. Lily in particular. That one time, Emma had worn darker lipstick, Lily had commented on it. And Killian had raised an eyebrow. Emma wanted to avoid that. Hence the sneaking around and secrecy. She could live with that, though. What was a bit more sneaking around in her situation? She was already an expert in sneaking around. And she didn’t even feel bad about it. The ‘old Emma’ probably would, but this ‘new Emma’ couldn’t see that there was anything wrong with what she was doing. 

If only Regina would let her guard down a little. Sometimes she could be so reserved. Some evenings, she was all about the lesson and told Emma to start singing as soon as she stepped inside the lair, and she would send Emma on her way as soon as the lesson was over, but on other nights, she was more... forthcoming. Those were the nights were she would allow Emma to stay a little longer. On those nights, Emma would sit down next to Regina and talk. About anything, really. And Regina would be less about scoffing and rolling her eyes and more about commenting on what Emma was saying. The last time it had happened, Emma had gone into details about her home in Maine. She had really tried to paint a picture of her childhood home back in Storybrooke. Had described the grey forest wallpaper in the living room and the oak shelves filled with books in her own room. She had described her bed and the bedspread. Her forest green walls, the little window bench. The big windows. Regina had listened interested and asked Emma if she lived close to a forest. Emma had nodded and said that the forest wasn’t too far away from where she was living. ‘I like the forest,’ Regina had said. ‘At least I liked the last forest I was in.’

Obviously, Emma had been totally intrigued and dying to find out more about the reason behind that comment, but Regina had revealed absolutely nothing. She had just encouraged Emma to keep talking about her home in Maine. And so that’s exactly what Emma had done. A bit reluctantly at first because she wanted to know more about Regina, but eventually she had started to enjoy the way Regina nodded and seemed genuinely interested in hearing about Maine. ‘Do you miss it, Little Swan?’ she had asked when Emma took a moment to breathe. 

‘Well...’ Emma had answered. ‘I really did at first, but now, not so much.’

‘What changed?’ Regina had calmly asked.

Emma had tugged a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘Uhm.... I guess I started feeling more at home here. Found a new rhythm.’ That had only partially been the truth. Emma’s homesickness had actually disappeared when she started her unofficial lessons in Regina’s lair. Regina was the one who had changed things for her. But Emma didn’t tell her that. She was afraid that the Phantom would merely scoff and roll her eyes. Emma absolutely detested when Regina did that. It made her feel so small and childish. Some kid who bothered Regina. And if there was something, Emma did not want to be, it was that. A child. A stupid little kid who desperately tried to become friends with the Phantom of the Opera. But when those thoughts popped up in her head, Emma reminded herself that Christine had done it. She had succeeded in getting to know the Phantom. Yes, Emma had a distinct feeling that Christine Daaé had known all Regina’s secrets. And if she could, so could Emma. Was she competing with Christine Daaé? Emma didn’t want to think so, but it sort of felt like she was, actually. But as soon as she thought that, she immediately scolded herself for doing so. That wasn’t very nice of her. Christine was dead. 

Emma had been on the brink of getting annoyed at her because she had succeeded. You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t think ill of the death. 

But still, Emma wanted to do what Christine had succeeded in doing. Becoming friends with Regina. Getting to know her. All of her. Even if it was a ‘sad story’ like Regina had told her some weeks before. 

The mystery kept Emma awake at night. At what point had Regina gone from being an ordinary woman to ‘the Phantom of the Opera’? What had changed? What had her life been like before? Who was Regina? Who was she really? Before she started hiding in the catacombs? Before meeting and becoming friends with Christine Daaé. Why couldn’t she remember how old she was? And why did she claim that she didn’t have parents? Everyone had parents. Even the Phantom of the Opera.

Emma hoped that she one day would be able to solve the mystery....

The first thing Emma noticed when she got out of bed that morning, was how incredibly dark the sky was. Big, black clouds were looming over the opera house, and a gust of wind made the windows rattle in their frames. Emma carefully made sure that both her windows were sufficiently locked. It seemed like bad weather was coming. Unfortunately. Emma was afraid of thunder. Very, very afraid. To the point where she had been in tears over it. Back in Maine, Emma would get out of bed and walk downstairs to the living room. Curl up in the couch. And it wouldn’t take long before her mom would come downstairs and find her. She would soothe Emma’s fears. Draw the curtains so she couldn’t see the lightning’s exploding across the sky. But the rumbling was harder to block out. And that was what scared Emma the most. The roars of thunder. She kept imagining that one of the lightening’s would hit their house. Her mom always saw her through it. She made cocoa even if it was in the middle of the night, and then she and Emma would sit and talk until the thunder stopped. That always soothed Emma. 

But she couldn’t do that here. She couldn’t get out of bed and make herself some cocoa. And she certainly couldn’t call her mom and expect her to stay with her over the phone until the thunder stopped. 

That was silly. Because of the time difference, but also because Emma was seventeen years old now. She was too old to get scared about a bit of thundering. And she was CERTAINLY too old to cry because of it. Emma firmly drew the curtains so she couldn’t see the dark sky. Maybe it wouldn’t get so bad. Maybe it would only be a little bit of rain and nothing more. No thundering. Another gust of wind made the windows rattle in their frames, and Emma shivered slightly. It was cold today, very cold. What had happened to the clear, blue sky from yesterday? Emma already missed it. She and Lily had gone for a little walk in Paris. Bought ice creams and window shopped. Emma had mentioned needing a new pajamas for when the weather got cold, and Lily had insisted upon helping her. Emma had been incapable of saying no, and that was why she now was the owner of a long, impracticable nightgown made of a thin, white fabric with a matching dressing gown to pull over it. Emma was mad at herself for buying it. It was silly. That nightgown wouldn’t keep her warm in the winter. It might be long, but it was also flimsy. The dressing gown wasn’t much better. It might have long sleeves, but again, the material was thin. Buying it had been a silly thing to do. Maybe Emma would go back to the store and trade it for a more sensible pajamas. But not today. She had no intentions of leaving the opera house when the clouds were this black and ominous. She wasn’t interested in getting caught in the rain. Meaning that she would have to withstand the nightgown for one more night. Stupid, stupid Emma. She shouldn’t have been so hasty in throwing her old pajamas out before she and Lily left. But she had assumed she would come home with a new one. Not a silly nightgown....

The canteen was exceptionally dark when Emma came downstairs. All the colors seemed very subdued because of the dark clouds chasing across the sky. Emma shivered a little once more. There were no curtains in the canteen. She could see the looming clouds outside. Sooner or later, those clouds would open up, and the rain would come falling, Emma knew that. 

“Good morning,” Lily greeted as Emma sat down next to her. 

“Good morning,” Emma said and dug into the bowl of porridge she had chosen for herself on this unusually cold morning. 

“Slept well?” Lily asked. “You look a bit uneasy.”

“I do? I think it might be the dark weather,” Emma excused. She was not gonna reveal that she was afraid that it would start thundering. Lily would probably think that she was being silly. And really, it WAS silly. Even Emma could see that. 

“Oh.” Lily nodded. “Yeah, it is very dark outside today. Good thing we made it to Paris yesterday. Today we would definitely had ended up caught in the rain or something.”

As on cue, the wind howled outside. Louder than it had been a moment ago. 

Emma tried not to shiver and concentrated on eating her porridge. Being this afraid because a bit of bad weather was ridiculous. She was such a chicken sometimes. She had to pull herself together. The weather wasn’t dangerous at all. The lightening wouldn’t struck. She would be absolutely fine. 

“Are you ready to sing?” Lily asked and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. 

“I am,” Emma said confidently. She always felt ready for singing no matter what. And she was certain that she had seen Malena and Mme. Carlotta look at her while she sang. At first, Emma hadn’t   
understood why that was, but then she had come to the realization that she was actually singing louder than what she had done when she first arrived here at the Opera Garnier. Her voice wasn’t as small and timid anymore. Still a clear and light soprano, but stronger somehow. And it was all Regina’s doing. She was the one who had instilled confidence in Emma. Confidence in herself and her voice. That had happened after Emma had sustained and reached that impossibly high note weeks prior. She hadn’t done it since, and she both wanted to do it again and feared it. She feared that it had just been a one time thing and that she wouldn’t be able to do it again. But she also yearned to do it again. She yearned to hear her voice soar to impossibly heights, feel that thrill. That particular sensation she had felt low in her stomach right before passing out. Emma had vowed to herself not to pass out the next time. She would fight to stay conscious so she could see Regina’s reaction with her own eyes. She had sounded proud the last time, but unfortunately, Emma had fainted before she was able to look at her. Fainted right in Regina’s arms...

Emma shook her head firmly. Why on earth was she thinking about that NOW? Right in the middle of breakfast? It had to be the dark clouds and the storm getting to her. 

She was almost grateful when Malena arrived in the canteen and claimed everyone’s attention with a soft ‘hrm-hrm’. 

Emma looked up at her mentor along with everyone else. Now what? Malena didn’t come with announcements in the middle of breakfast unless it was something really important. Or serious. Like the stolen bottle of wine weeks ago. Emma frowned. Had another bottle of wine been stolen? If that was the case, Emma would have no choice but to tell Regina to be careful. That the teachers had noticed it. 

“I do apologize for interrupting your breakfast like this,” Malena said. “But as you might have noticed, the weather is quite bad today, the wind is supposed to pick up later tonight, and we can expect heavy rainfall and thundering. I’m therefore asking you to please make sure all your windows are properly locked. The weather will be very bad, and I don’t want any broken windows anywhere. Does everybody understand that?” 

A muttering of ‘yes, Malena’ echoed in the canteen. 

Emma’s heart plummeted. It sounded like they were gonna get hit by a right thunderstorm tonight. How was she supposed to get through that? Supposed the lights went out? Emma wasn’t all that big on darkness. Darkness meant strange shadows dancing in the corners of her room. Shadows that evolved into monsters every time she looked away for a moment. She felt something ice cold run down her spine. Deep down, she knew that she was exaggerating, but right now it felt like the worst thing to possibly happen. She would have to sleep with her headphones on tonight. With loud music or an audiobook playing in her ears. Anything. As long as the volume was high enough to drown the roaring thunder. 

Emma looked down at her porridge. She wasn’t the least bit hungry anymore. Thinking about the bad weather that would come tonight had made her loose her appetite completely. She knew that she was being pathetic, but she couldn’t help it. You couldn’t control what you were afraid of, and one of Emma’s fears just so happened to be thunder. 

How she was going to get through it tonight, she did not know, but she would have to try. Would have to be brave. Even though she was far away from Storybrooke and the only person who could comfort her during a thunderstorm. She forced herself to take another spoonful of the porridge and open her mouth. She had to eat something. She couldn’t let the fear paralyze her. Even if it was already sitting in the pit of her stomach like a big ice cube that made her shiver from head to toe. 

She would have to be hard on herself today. Force herself to get a grip. Good thing she had lessons in a moment. Hopefully, that would make her forget for a while........

Singing didn’t work completely as intended. 

Even the stage room seemed dark and almost ominous because of the weather. The big chandelier couldn’t light up the room properly in the darkness. For once, Emma didn’t think that the stage room was a nice place to be. She found it to be chilling. Creepy, even. True, the wind was more hushed in here, but it was still there. She could still hear it even when she sang with the rest of the choir. Mme. Carlotta was quite excited about it and said that the weather ‘added to the aesthetic’, but Emma disagreed. She really, really did not like this at all. Could already feel the panic swirling somewhere low in her belly. She reminded herself to breathe. Everything would be fine if she just kept breathing slowly. In and out, in and out. She could do this. She could do this without breaking down. At least she hoped she could. 

“Faites attention, mademoiselle Swan,” Mme. Carlotta said firmly. She had clearly noticed that Emma wasn’t completely present. 

Emma blushed as she stuttered an apology. And then she concentrated on singing like she was supposed to. She really couldn’t let her fears about tonight’s weather get the best of her. She was supposed to sing and let herself be distracted. But she kept thinking that her voice sounded strange when mixing with the howling wind. It probably didn’t, but Emma was paranoid. 

Ruby had no problem with singing, though. Her voice was as clear as it always was. Mme. Carlotta seemed very satisfied and flashed Ruby one of her rare smiles. Mme. Carlotta was strict, stricter than Malena, but she was a good teacher. 

Next to Emma, Killian was frowning slightly as he was singing, and Emma immediately wondered why that was. He looked like he was paying attention to something, but definitely not Ruby’s singing or Mme. Carlotta’s instructions. Emma felt so tempted to give him a nudge and ask ‘what?’. Killian wasn’t usually one for getting distracted during rehearsal. He could be a bit of a trickster, but he was always focused when rehearsing. And especially when Mme. Carlotta was the one to supervise. She didn’t take any crap from anyone, strict as she was. Emma found him to be very brave for standing there and very openly not paying attention to the lesson. What was he doing? What was he listening to? The wind? Was he scared of the storm too? No, Emma doubted it. Killian didn’t strike her as the type who was afraid of anything, really. He seemed more like the type who liked danger. Especially if he was the one to create it. Emma discreetly glanced around to see if anybody else had noticed it, but no, everyone else were busy singing. As she should be. She quietly cleared her throat and easily fell into the rhythm. Felt eyes upon her. Belle’s. Lily’s. Emma tried to turn the volume on her voice down a little. She honestly wasn’t trying to steal the attention. She just didn’t know how to control the newfound strength in her voice yet. But she could probably get some help with that.

“Yes, that was excellent mademoiselle Lucas,” Mme. Carlotta said with a slight nod. “I think we will-“ she stopped talking abruptly and got the same, attentive expression on her face as Killian. She frowned and was clearly listening to something. 

And now Emma could hear it too. Very, very faintly and through the wind, she could hear some kind of rustling or shuffling sound coming from behind the door on the left. Behind that door was where they kept all the costumes they used in the performances, Malena had told them during their first tour of the opera house. 

“What on earth was that?” Mme. Carlotta wondered and raised an eyebrow. 

“The wind?” Belle suggested. 

“Non, mademoiselle French, that does not sound like the wind to me,” Mme. Carlotta said, still frowning. 

“Then maybe it’s the-“

Mme. Carlotta lifted a hand and brought Belle to silence. The teacher’s frown deepened as she listened intensely. 

Emma listened too. There was that shuffling sound again. Rustle-rustle. Rustle-rustle. What WAS that? Mme. Carlotta was right, that definitely did not sound like the wind at all. If Emma didn’t know any better, she would say that something was moving about in there. But what? The wind couldn’t exactly penetrate the thick walls of the opera and make things move around in the costume room. 

More rustling. It sounded.... Well, it sounded like something or someone was toying with the costumes in there. But surely, that wasn’t possible, right? Emma wasn’t so sure anymore. It wasn’t just the wind or something falling down in there. It had to be something else. But what? For a moment, Emma considered the possibility that it was Joseph Bouquet and his girlfriend in there. Maybe they were drunk. But then again, if that had been the case, the choir would have been able to hear them. Joseph Bouquet was always very loud when he was drunk. But perhaps he wasn’t drunk. Maybe he and his girlfriend were... No. Emma didn’t want to think about that. It made her feel all icky to think about. She would rather think about just how angry Mme. Carlotta would be if it turned out to really be Joseph Bouquet and his girlfriend. Mr. Gold had to fire him then. 

Mme. Carlotta muttered something in French. She was wondering what caused the sound. 

“Maybe it’s a mouse?” Ruby helpfully suggested with a slight shrug. 

Mme. Carlotta’s eyes widened. “Une souris?! In the costume room?! I sincerely hope not, mademoiselle Lucas!”

“Then maybe it’s-“ Killian let out a cackle and formed his long fingers into claws. “The ghost!” He laughed again, clearly trying to sound scary and menacing. He made a sort of growling sound low in his throat as he continued: “It’s the Phantom of the Opera lurking in there and just waiting to see if one of us will stay a little while longer so he can-“

“THANK you, monsieur Jones!” Mme. Carlotta said firmly and shot him a certain, strict look. Emma would be afraid to say anything else if Mme. Carlotta was looking at her like that, and Killian wisely shut his mouth. 

Next to Emma, Lily shifted a bit. Anna looked downright scared, and Ruby frowned as she looked at the door to the costume room. And as on cue, another rustling sound was heard from in there. A louder one. Not the wind. Definitely not the wind. No one could trick themselves into believing that. Emma saw how Anna was shivering now. More muttering erupted. A few of them mentioned the word ‘ghost’ or ‘Phantom’. Lily leaned in and whispered something in Emma’s ear, but Emma was not paying attention to it. The wheels in her head were turning. Now she felt panic-y for reasons that had very little to do with the weather. Supposed there actually was some truth in Killian’s little joke? Suppose it actually was-

“There are no such things as ghosts. Or phantoms,” Mme. Carlotta said very, very firmly and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. “But I will however go in there to check if it should indeed be a mouse in the middle of ruining our costumes. If it is, Monsieur Gold needs to be informed right away-“

“I’ll do it!” Emma blurted quickly and startled herself and everyone else. What Killian had said had made her nervous that it actually WAS Regina in there! And if it was, under no circumstances could Mme. Carlotta go in there! That would be a disaster. Regina couldn’t be seen by anyone. Except Emma, that was. 

Emma knew that her fellow choir members were staring at her as she stood there, bouncing slightly on her heels and waving a hand in the air. “I’ll... go in there and check,” she said half-heartedly. “So you don’t have to interrupt the rehearsal with Ruby right in the middle of the difficult piece.” When had she gotten so good at lying? The ‘old Emma’ would have blushed and stuttered herself through the explanation. Or maybe she wouldn’t have been able to get through it at all. Emma knew that she shouldn’t, but she was actually pretty impressed with herself. She had just managed to sound convincing and caring and sweet.

“Why, thank you, mademoiselle Swan,” Mme. Carlotta said slightly surprised. “That was kind of you to offer. Hurry along then. You are not afraid of mice, are you?” 

“No,” Emma assured as she left her usual spot in the backrow. She skittered across the stage as quickly as possible, went down the three little steps and then headed towards the door. She reminded herself to act as ‘normal’ and casual as possible as she put a hand on the doorknob and pressed it down. She slipped inside the darkened room and looked around, thinking to herself that she hoped Regina had a very good explanation for being here right now. This was dangerous. If Emma hadn’t reacted this quickly, Mme. Carlotta could have walked right in here. 

But maybe there was nothing to walk in on? Emma looked around in the darkened and seemingly empty room. It seemed pretty quiet in here now. She couldn’t hear anymore rustling. Just the wind outside.   
Maybe she shouldn’t have taken Killian’s little comment quite so seriously. 

Emma took a breath and almost chuckled to herself. She was being silly. There were obviously no one here. Maybe a mouse, but nothing else. She could breathe again. But she still had to check and see if   
she could find the mouse. Emma actually was a bit afraid of mice, but she expected herself to survive if she came face to face with the creature. 

Emma ventured deeper into the room to search it more thoroughly. As she looked around, she kept reminding herself not to scream like a little girl if she ‘met’ the mouse. 

The costume room was quite a fascinating room, really. Emma had only been here that one time, and it had been over quickly, but now she could really appreciate it. There were so many costumes. Big, poofy dresses. Ballerina outfits with tutu skirts and all. Lots of shoes. Heavy coats with beautiful embellishment on them. Stunning gowns made of velvet. Yes, the costume room was a fascinating room indeed. Emma ran her fingers over a big, poofy skirt. Beautifully embellished and in orange, red and green colors. Lots of ruffles and details. So elaborate. So beautiful. And so was the matching bodice hanging next to it. Emma sighed a bit as she reached out and touched that as well. This was Ruby’s costume. The one she was supposed to wear for the big concert in five months. Emma was so happy for her. Imagine getting to wear such a beautiful costume on stage. Quite the difference from the white chorus dress. But of course Emma wasn’t jealous. That would be silly. She was only happy for Ruby, and she was certain that the older singer would look absolutely amazing in the skirt and bodice. 

Emma got lost for a moment. Closed her eyes and touched the fabric. To think that such a big skirt could feel so light. It was like touching water. Emma reminded herself to ask Ruby if she could be present when she tried the outfit on for the first time. That was a moment Emma didn’t want to miss. And Ruby would probably say yes. Ruby was always so nice to her. Always made her feel included.

Emma finally moved her hand away from the skirt and took one more look around in the costume room. Everything seemed pretty quiet in here. She hadn’t seen any mice. Maybe it really was the wind they had heard. Wind rustling through the pipes or something like that. Either way, Emma was happy that she could tell Mme. Carlotta that there were no mice in here. No mice whatsoever. She turned around to leave the costume room once more. There was no point in lingering in here. 

Thud. 

Emma immediately turned back around. It hadn’t been a loud sound, but it had still been there. Meaning that Emma would have to investigate. She squinted behind her glasses and immediately noticed that one of the dresses were now laying on the floor. Huh. Dresses didn’t just fall onto the floor by themselves, did they? 

No. Probably not. 

“Hello?” she called softly. So quietly she wouldn’t be heard in the stage room. “Is someone here?”

Quiet laughter coming from somewhere behind the hangers full of dresses. 

Emma took a breath. This would have been really, really creepy if she hadn’t recognized the laughter. She shook her head a little and watched as the dresses rustled.

Regina elegantly emerged from underneath the hangers full of dresses. Emma suspected that she must have been in a crouching position to fit in there. Emma felt ridiculously relieved that she had offered to go in here, and a tad annoyed. What if she hadn’t? What if someone else had come in here and had found Regina?

“Boo,” Regina said sardonically as she brushed dust off her blue velvet dress. She pushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear and then continued roaming through the dresses on the hangers like this was totally normal. 

“What are you doing here?” Emma whispered. 

“Searching for something to wear,” Regina deadpanned in a ‘what else’-tone. 

“But you can’t!” Emma hissed. “We heard you!”

“Did you? How nice for you, dear,” Regina replied, completely unphased by Emma’s state of worry. 

“Someone else could have come in here and SEEN you,” Emma whispered, desperately trying to make Regina understand that what she was doing was ridiculously risky. 

“Oh yes,” was all Regina said. She shrugged lightly and then pulled a deep forest green dress off its hanger and held it up. “What do you think of this, Little Swan?” 

“It’s.... nice,” Emma said, slightly exasperated and trying not to focus on the fact that she had just solved the mystery about where Regina got her clothes from. She stole it from the costume room. Plain and simple. 

“Good. That’s settled then.” Regina nonchalantly slung the dress across her arm. 

Emma grew more and more annoyed at her laid back attitude. “Are you... Are you drunk?”

Regina’s head whipped around, and she glared a little bit at Emma. “That is rude, Little Swan.”

Emma flushed now. “S-sorry. I’m just-“ something dawned upon her. “Are you... are you not afraid of being caught?”

“Why would I be?” Regina said shortly. Then she grinned slightly. “I’m good at disappearing when I need to, Little Swan. Or are you gonna rat me out to the Madame Carlotta perhaps?”

“No!” Emma said immediately. “I’d never do that! We’re friends.”

Regina laughed quietly again. “That word again, Little Swan. You seem to like that word a lot.”

“Well-“

“Since we’re such good.... friends,” Regina interrupted and looked like she was tasting the word. “Then perhaps I could ask a favor of you?” 

“Anything!” Emma said automatically. She didn’t even think. The response just slipped out of her.

Regina raised on eyebrow and squinted slightly behind the mask. “Anything? My, my. I do hope you don’t say that to everyone. People might take advantage of you. Remember that.” 

The slightly condescending tone ticked Emma’s temper for a second, but instead of acting upon it, she asked: “what is the favor you want to ask of me?”

“Your bathroom.”

“What?” Emma tilted her head. 

“Well, more specifically, your shower,” Regina said nonchalantly. “I usually... borrow one of the other bathrooms in the opera, but I’ve already taken one risk today, and I suppose it would be a shame to get caught.”

Emma was honestly surprised. Regina wanted to borrow her bathroom to take a shower? She had not seen that coming at all. 

“Well?” Regina asked impatiently. “What’s it’s gonna be, Little Swan? Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Emma said immediately. “You can borrow my shower. Of course you can.” Regina had never asked for any favors before. Not like this. 

“Thank you. I will be coming tonight then. When the opera is dark and quiet. There will be no lesson tonight.”

“Why not?” Emma asked disappointed. 

Regina flashed her a smile that was only slightly sinister. “Because tomorrow night you’ll sustain for me again, Little Swan.”

Now Emma felt excitement swirl in her belly. “I... I will?” 

“Oh yes,” Regina said lowly. “Now off you pop. Go out there and sing. Hurry. You’ve already spent far too long time in here. “

“How are you gonna get out?” Emma whispered. 

“I have my ways. Now GO. Hurry. And-“ Regina put a finger on her lips in a ‘shh’-motion. “Be quiet.”

Emma found that she had no other option than doing what the Phantom said. She slowly backed away, but kept facing Regina while doing so. Regina was still smiling very slightly with a finger on her lip in that ‘shh’-motion.

Emma saw Regina duck with the green dress in her arms and disappear under the hangers with the heavy dresses. And then everything was completely quiet in the costume room once more. Emma lingered for a moment and waited. She couldn’t hear anything. Either Regina was very, very good at being quiet, or she had just disappeared completely. Was there some kind of way out underneath those dresses? Emma was so tempted to pull the dresses aside and check for herself, but she couldn’t risk spending anymore time in here. She had to get out before Mme. Carlotta or someone else came in here to see what was taking her so long. 

So finally, she turned around and left the costume room. Tried not to look too dazed. 

The rest of the choir and Mme. Carlotta were waiting for her. Mme. Carlotta raised an eyebrow. “That took a while, mademoiselle Swan. Were there any mice?”

“No. No mice.” Just a masked woman looking for clothes. “But I accidentally made some dresses fall down. That’s why it took a little longer. Sorry.”

“Ah. That explains the shuffling sound,” Mme. Carlotta nodded. “Did any of the dresses get dusty?”

“No, not at all,” Emma assured. 

“Good. Now resume your place, please, and let’s carry on. We’ve already wasted too much time.”

Emma obediently found her place in the backrow, and she sang along with the choir as though nothing had happened, but deep down she was secretly thrilled about this. Meeting Regina in the costume room had been a nice surprise. And the idea of seeing her tonight was even better. She would come to Emma’s room. Emma wouldn’t have to go to the lair. That was quite the different situation, but   
Emma didn’t mind it at all. Of course Regina could borrow her shower. Regina had done so much for her. Taught her so much. Emma felt another tickle in her belly. Tomorrow night she was gonna sustain again. Hold that note once more. And this time she would not faint! She would stay conscious so she could see the look in Regina’s eyes. Emma felt herself getting distracted as she for her inner eye saw Regina duck under the dresses and disappear. Was she still sitting in the costume room and hiding right now? Or was she gone. Maybe that was what she had meant by ‘I have my ways’. 

Emma hoped that was the case. She sort of hated the idea of Regina having to sit in the dark costume room until the lesson was over....

The wind seemed to pick up as the day progressed, and by the dinnertime, it was howling through the canteen, almost drowning all conversation and making the windows rattle in their frames once more. Joseph Bouquet could be seen running around and ensuring that all windows were locked. Everyone was ordered to stay inside. Nobody protested. Nobody had the desire to go out when the weather was this terrible. 

The first rain came when Emma was half-way through her dinner. First light taps against the windows, but then it turned into what could only be described as a hailstorm. Even Lily seemed to pale a little at it. “Wow,” she mumbled. “It’s intense.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. It was definitely intense. 

“I’m glad I’m not outside right now. The streets must be flooded.”

Emma nodded, but she was starting to think. Starting to worry. About Regina. Was she alright down in the lair in this weather? Wasn’t there a risk that the lair could get... flooded? Emma reminded herself to ask Regina about it later when she came to her room. 

When she came to her room. 

Emma shook her head a little. The thought was almost absurd, but nevertheless, that was what was going to happen later. Regina would be coming to her for once. To take a shower. Emma wondered a great deal about that too. Where did Regina shower? Where exactly were these ‘other bathrooms’ she had talked about? Did she just randomly come into somebody else’s room and ‘borrowed’ their shower while they were asleep? That was... ballsy. Once again, Emma was getting impressed when she shouldn’t be. 

She eagerly stuffed more food inside her mouth. As per usually, she was in a hurry. In a hurry to get upstairs. She didn’t know exactly when Regina would show up. ‘When the rest of the opera is asleep’ was a pretty broad timespan, but Emma did know that she had no intention of missing out. She wanted to be there when Regina arrived. Therefore she rushed as she had dinner. She had already stuffed some food down her backpack. She hoped she could convince Regina to stay in her room and eat instead of taking the food down to the lair with her right away. Emma wanted to talk to the Phantom for a moment before she left again. She always felt like she never talked enough with the Phantom. She was always send away before the conversation could fully flourish between them. Emma wanted to rectify that. 

“In a hurry?” Lily half-chuckled. “You’re literally vacuuming your plate, Swan.”

Emma smiled and came up with a half hearted explanation. Yes, she was definitely in a hurry! Very much so. But she couldn’t tell Lily the reason. And she didn’t even feel bad about lying. It felt like it was for the greater good or something like that......

It became late. Then it became later. Then VERY late. 

Emma waited patiently, sitting on her bed and looking at the mirror to see exactly when it was pushed back in its frame and Regina walked through it. 

She had changed into her silly nightgown and dressing gown. And she felt utterly dumb. She felt like she looked like a little girl dressing up. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had thrown away her old pajamas. Unfortunately. 

Emma crossed her legs and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. When would Regina show up? Soon, she hoped. Emma needed the distraction. The rain was still coming down heavily. Very, very heavily. 

And as Emma looked at the curtain covered windows, she saw a flash of lightening. She cringed. Felt tempted to cover her ears. Then the rumbling followed. That terrible, deep rumbling. Emma’s heart started thumping painfully in her chest. This was exactly what she had feared. The thunderstorm was here. Right outside her window. It didn’t take long before another lightening exploded outside her window. Emma braced herself, but she still ended up trembling when the threatening rumbling followed. Louder than before. 

Emma slipped under the covers as though the blankets could protect her. She was shivering again. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm, but it was getting increasingly harder. She wished she was in her old bedroom in Storybrooke. She wanted to be calmed down. Wanted to be soothed. Needed it. 

She rolled onto her side so she could see the mirror again. The rain was coming down harder now. And there were less pauses between the lightening’s. Emma bit her lip and felt tempted to pull the covers up over her head. She was getting mad at herself again. Why did she have to be so afraid of thunder? It couldn’t harm her. 

Another gust of wind made the windows rattle in their frames, and Emma actually yelped in fear. Her throat constricted painfully, and Emma tried to swallow the massive lump that seemed to be stuck there. Was she shivering? Emma didn’t want to admit it to herself, but the truth was yes. She was shivering slightly underneath the covers. So much for being adult and mature. Emma scoffed to herself. 

How many adults were scared of thunder? She felt like such a little fool as she laid underneath the covers. Maybe it was time to face her fears or something like that. Emma gout out of bed and looked at the windows. 

She shouldn’t have. Another lightening flashed across the sky, and the rumbling that followed seemed to make the entire building shake. Or so it felt. A teeny, tiny whimper escaped Emma. She cupped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to prevent the sound from coming out. She couldn’t cry just because it was thundering. It was so stupid. She was so stupid. She pulled the dressing gown a little tighter around herself as though to soothe herself, but it didn’t work. Not really. 

She had promised herself not to panic, but maybe she was going to anyway. 

That was when she saw the mirror slide back in its frame. Emma almost held her breath, and she didn’t release it until Regina walked through. She was wearing the deep green velvet dress Emma had seen her take in the costume room. Her hair was down in soft curls brushing her lower back. The white half-mask in place on her face. Emma didn't fear the mask anymore. She saw it as a part of Regina now.

“Regina!” Emma exclaimed, turning around on the spot, utterly relieved because she wasn’t alone anymore. Even if it only was for five minutes. She yanked her dressing gown up and corrected it where it had slipped down some. She feared she looked silly in that white nightgown and dressing gown over it. She felt a bit ridiculous. She shouldn't have listened to Lily. She should have followed her instincts and bought a sensible pajamas instead. If she had done that, she wouldn't have been standing here and feeling so ridiculous. 

Regina looked at her. Just looked at her. So intensely, Emma was starting to fear that there was something on her face. Or her dressing gown. She knew it was a silly thing to by. Regina probably thought so too. She smiled insecurely at Regina. 

Regina did not smile back at her. She merely looked at her. Looked and looked and looked, but without actually seeing her. To Emma, it felt like Regina was looking right through her. Seeing something that wasn't here. Or someone.

"Is something wrong?" Emma asked, tugging at the dressing gown again.

That seemed to 'awaken' Regina from whatever trance she had been in. “Good evening, Little Swan,” she said a tad brusquely. “Still awake I see.” 

“I- yeah, I wanted to... wait for you.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll only be here for a moment,” Regina said, and Emma noted how she glanced around in the room for a moment. 

“I left a towel for you,” Emma said almost sheepishly. Thunder momentarily forgotten. 

“Thank you,” Regina said. Stiffly again. 

“And I’ve got you some food too,” Emma added. 

Regina nodded once and looked around in the room once more. She had been here before, Emma suddenly remembered that. This wasn’t a new situation for her. Emma observed her as she looked around in the little room. Regina looked nice in the forest green dress. Emma briefly wondered what performance the dress had been used in. She couldn’t imagine anyone looking quite as nice in it as Regina did.   
The dress almost seemed to have tailored for her. 

“Well, well,” Regina said more to herself than to Emma as she looked around in the room.

“It’s not as big as your lair,” Emma said stupidly. 

“Perhaps not,” Regina murmured. “But it has a shower. And right now, that’s the only thing I need.”

“You’re welcome to borrow it as much as you want to,” Emma offered. She sounded eager. Too eager.

Regina nodded. Emma did the same. Suddenly, she felt extremely awkward. For reasons she didn’t quite understood. Surely, this wasn’t much more different than when she came to see Regina in the lair, was it? No, it couldn’t be. Shouldn’t be. Was it because the space was smaller, perhaps? That was ridiculous too. Emma reminded herself that Regina had been in this room before. There was nothing weird or awkward about it. Emma had felt so good when Regina had asked this favor of her. She had really felt like she was Regina’s friend. She wasn’t gonna ruin that now by being awkward. Definitely not. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Suddenly she wished she had her hairbrush nearby so she could give her hair a quick brushing. She had a feeling it was tangled. Emma didn’t want it to be tangled. She didn’t want to look out of sorts when Regina was here. Why? She wasn’t completely sure. Maybe it was because Regina looked so regal and perfect as she stood there in her forest green dress and looked around in the room. 

“You should go to sleep, Little Swan,” the Phantom said, interrupting Emma’s train of thoughts. “It’s late and tomorrow will be a long day. You will be doing a lot of singing for me.”

“I can’t sleep,” Emma mumbled, once again painfully aware of the claps of thunder outside her window. 

“Why?”

Emma settled for a shrug. She was definitely not gonna tell Regina about her irrational fear. How frightened she actually was right now. Really, nobody needed to know that. And certainly not the Phantom   
of the Opera. 

Regina didn’t probe. She just said: “right. Well, I won’t be long. Try not to make too much noise. It would be unfortunate if someone heard you be in two places at once.”

Emma nodded. She understood what Regina meant. 

Regina disappeared into the bathroom, and soon after, Emma heard the water being switched on. This situation was definitely unusual. When Emma woke up this morning, she definitely had not expected that the Phantom of the Opera would be showering in her bathroom come evening. Perhaps she should mention to Regina that she could borrow the shower as much as she needed to. That was better than risking being caught. Emma drew her knees up to her chest. Regina was showering right now. The most natural thing in the world. Something that everyone did. So why did it leave Emma with the feeling that her throat was dry and her stomach weird? 

She didn’t find out. The distraction only lasted until another flash of light exploded behind the curtains. The rumbling that followed had Emma yelping once more. She was suddenly reminded of that one time when she was a little girl and had hid in the closet during a thunderstorm. Tonight there was no closet she could hide in. She could only hope that she wouldn’t panic. That she would stay calm until it was over. She had to. If she worked herself up to a panic attack, she would be completely exhausted tomorrow. And she couldn’t be. She had a very important lesson ahead of her. 

Another clap of thunder send shivers down Emma’s spine. She hastily moved away from the window. You shouldn't be near any windows when it was thundering. Walked over to the mirror and pushed it back in its frame. She didn’t want any rats to accidentally come in here. The thunder was more than enough. Emma tried to relax. Tried to concentrate on something else. Anything. Like... the water running in the bathroom for instance. Hot showers usually made Emma feel calm, so maybe listening to the sound of the water running was enough. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. 

It didn’t work. 

The thunder was almost roaring in Emma’s ears now, and she brought her hands up to use as cover. She tried to block out the sound, but that didn’t work either. The thunder was too intense, and the next roar seemed to hit her right in the chest. The following gust of wind knocked her over. Emma’s knees caved in and she ended up in an unruly bundle on the floor. An unruly, shaking bundle. All of her was shaking. Her chin included. She felt like the lightening could strike her room at any moment. Emma managed to crawl as far away from the window as she possibly could get. She ended up curling up in the farthest corner of the room. Back pressed tightly against the wall, and chest heaving. Her chin was quivering and every time she blinked, something wet stained her cheeks. So she was crying.   
Because a bit of bad weather. Emma knew that it was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. She was so afraid she felt nauseous. So afraid her palms were sweaty. Emma tried to breathe. Deeply in, deeply out. Like her mom had taught her. But it didn’t seem to work. The more she tried, the more aware she became over how far away from home and consolation she actually was. She could call her mom, of course she could, but the thing was.... she didn’t want to. She wanted to prove that she could do this. That she could handle a bit of thunder on her own. 

But maybe she couldn’t. 

The next clap of thunder had her shaking even more. She drew her knees up to her chest, tried to make herself as small as possible as she wrapped her arms around her knees and let her head drop to rest of them. She whimpered. Sniffled. Couldn’t even suppress the sound had she wanted to. The tears were flowing freely now. She had tried to keep it under control the whole day, but now she couldn’t anymore. She had to let it go. Had to let herself go. “P-please stop,” she choked out as another flash of thunder briefly lit up the room. Emma brought her hands up to cover her ears, tried to brace herself, but she couldn’t. The roar of thunder made her shake and cry out even though she didn’t want to. She was shaking so much her teeth were chattering in her mouth. “S-stop!” she whimpered and pressed her hands tightly against her ears. “Stop it, stop it! Please!” the howling wind drowned out her voice. Drowned her whimpers. Emma rocked back and forward. It felt like her heart was sitting in her throat. It was hammering way too fast. She felt dizzy. Sick. Emma pressed herself against the wall. Wished she could disappear through it. Until the storm was over. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly white spots danced before them. Rocking back and forward didn’t help, but she couldn’t stop it either. She was too far gone to have any control over it. She whimpered again. Sniffled. Didn’t do anything to prevent the tears from falling. Because there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Nor the shaking. She was having a panic attack, and the knowledge of that made her upset too. She had tried so hard to distract herself throughout the day. Had told herself again and again that she could handle it. But when it really came to it, she couldn’t. When it really came to it, she broke down in tears. Like a child would do. Sometimes Emma despised herself. And right now in particular. Another flash of thunder lit up the room, another loud rumbling made her shake and rock back and forward. 

“What on earth are you doing?” 

Emma cried out in pure shock as she lifted her head and looked up with tear stained cheeks. The wind had completely drowned out the sound of the water running. And being switched off. The room was lit up by yet another flashing lightening, and Regina was briefly illuminated as she stood there in her green velvet gown. Her hair was still curly, but wet now, and Emma was sure she could smell vanilla. Regina must have borrowed some of Emma’s shower gel. Then Emma remembered that Regina was waiting for an answer, and she tried to pull herself together. “Nothi-“ but then another roar of thunder filled her ears, and the only sound coming out of her mouth was a whimper and a: “p-please stop!”. She slammed her hands against her ears again in an attempt to make the sound go away once and for all. Now she really felt terrible. She had tried so hard to come across as mature and grownup, and here she was, crying like a child in front of Regina. Emma was so embarrassed she could die, but at the same time, she was so afraid she had no choice but to curl up against the wall. 

When the roar of thunder died down, she sensed movements near her. Emma dared looking up and saw Regina coming towards her. Emma bit the inside of her cheek, bracing herself for the dry remark or even mocking laughter that undoubtedly was to come. 

But the only thing happening was Regina sitting down next to her on the floor. Emma could smell the vanilla shower gel and apple-scented shampoo Regina had borrowed. She wanted to tell Regina that she was sorry she had to see this. Or maybe she wanted to tell Regina that she should leave so she didn’t have to witness this embarrassing sight, but another threatening rumbling had her shaking and whimpering rather than talking. Fresh tears spilled onto her heated cheeks. Emma desperately wished that the floor would open up and swallow her. Make her disappear for good. She could only imagine what Regina was thinking right now. That she was a silly little girl who was dumb enough to get scared about a little bit of thunder. Of course Regina was thinking that. Emma would too if she was Regina. 

But to her complete shock, she felt Regina pluck her hand away from where it had been pressed against her ear and taking it between her own instead. Regina was holding her hand. Emma was so utterly shocked and confused. She lifted her head, looked doubtfully up at Regina. “You- you don’t have to-”

“I’m perfectly aware that I don’t,” Regina interrupted. “Yet here we are.” She shifted a bit, adjusted on the floor. 

Emma nodded mutely. 

“How long have you been afraid of thunder, Little Swan?” Regina asked quietly, face illuminated by another lightening. 

“Since I was sev-“ Emma didn’t finish the sentence and let out a gasp when another rumbling made her shiver from head to toe. She accidentally ended up squeezing Regina’s hand a little too tightly. 

“I see,” Regina said, unbothered by Emma’s tight grip. 

“You must think I’m so stupid,” Emma mumbled.

“Why?” Regina asked simply. 

Emma lifted her head and used her free hand to wipe one or two tears away from her cheeks. “Because I’m so afraid of-“

“You think you are the only one to ever get afraid?” Regina interrupted softly. “The only one who fears something?”

Emma licked her lips. It was probably foolish to ask, but she couldn’t help it: “what are you afraid of?” she was having a hard time imagining Regina to be afraid of anything.

Regina was silent. The only sound here was the terrible, howling wind that made the entire opera house shake.

Emma shook too. She was tensing as she feared the next clap of thunder that undoubtedly would come. 

“Mirrors,” Regina said finally. “Or rather, what I see when I look in them.” her tone was neutral, but Emma could still sense the underlying emotion. 

“But...” Emma ran out of words. Regina was beautiful. Emma had realized that a while ago. And now Regina was sitting here and telling her that she was afraid of mirrors. Of looking at herself in the mirror. 

“So, you see, Little Swan. You are not the only one who fears something,” Regina said lightly.

Another thunderclap echoed in the room, and Emma shivered once more. Gripped Regina’s hand tightly. Her heart started pounding in her chest again. The conversation with Regina had only served as a   
temporary distraction. Emma took another deep breath, tried to will herself to calm down. The wind had died down some. Maybe the storm was over soon. Emma hoped that it would be. She was wound completely tight, and it was exhausting, really.

“The only thing I think is stupid, is sitting on the floor,” Regina said and stood from the floor in one, fluid motion. She extended her hand out towards Emma. “Come. You can’t sit there all night.”

Emma willingly took the offered hand and unfolded herself. Her motions were less fluid, but she did get back on her feet and willingly followed Regina as she guided her back to the bed. 

“Sitting on the floor won’t make anything better,” Regina said lightly and pushed her wet hair away from her face as Emma slipped back in bed.

Emma wiggled. Tried lying on her side. Tried lying her back. She couldn’t get comfortable. The panic attack was still sitting in her, but that wasn’t the only thing making her feel uneasy. She was afraid that   
Regina was going to leave already. Emma didn’t want her to leave so soon. She had only just arrived. 

“What’s the matter, Little Swan? Bed not comfortable to lie in? I found it to be plenty comfortable.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-“ Emma stopped talking when she suddenly realized what Regina had just said. She glanced up at the Phantom. “How would you know?”

“What?” Regina said, sounding distracted. She was still fiddling with her hair. 

“That my bed is comfortable to lie in,” Emma said simply. 

Just then, another lightening flashed across the sky and briefly illuminated Regina’s face, and Emma was surprised to see that Regina didn’t look as confident as she normally did. 

“Have you slept in it?” Emma probed. Curious now. It wasn’t like Regina to look so... hesitant. 

“Yes,” Regina said shortly. 

Emma remembered that the room had been left empty and locked after Christine’s death. Regina could have spend all her evenings here and no one would be any the wiser. She could come and go   
through the mirror as she pleased. “Before I moved in?” she asked quietly and a tad sleepily. 

“Yes,” Regina said just as shortly. 

Emma immediately picked up on it. There was something in Regina’s voice. The slightest hint that led Emma to believe that the Phantom of the Opera wasn’t telling the truth. At least not entirely. But before she could ask about, another rumbling sound reached her ears, and Emma shivered again. 

Regina sat down on the edge of Emma’s bed like she had done once before. And once again, Emma reached out and grabbed her hand. It had felt so soothing before, and Emma hoped that it would again. She shivered. Whimpered.

“Shh,” Regina said quietly. “It’s alright.”

Emma took a deep breath. Those words had never worked before. Not until tonight. 

“Shall I make you fall asleep, Little Swan?” Regina asked softly. 

“H-how?” Emma whispered. 

Regina laughed, and for once there wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in her laughter. “I have my ways, Little Swan.”

Again, her voice was soft. So soft, it prompted Emma to foolishly ask: “why are you so kind to me tonight?”

Regina laughed again. “Everyone has an ounce of kindness in them, Little Swan. Even me. Now, shall I make you fall asleep or not?” 

“I can’t,” Emma said quickly. “Not in this weather. I can only sleep when it’s over.”

“Care to test that, Little Swan?” Regina asked, and then she started humming. 

“I don’t need a lullaby,” Emma said quickly and a tad defiantly. She was NOT a child that needed to be soothed back to sleep!

“Good thing I don’t know any lullabies then,” Regina said, sounding a bit more like her usual self. Then she started singing again: ‘love’s a curious thing, it often comes disguised. Look at love the wrong   
way, it goes unrecognized...’

Emma gasped. But this time it had absolutely nothing to do with the thunder. Regina’s voice was like moonlight on polished gold. Soft and rich with a flicker of ghostly mystery to it. It was making Emma’s   
tense body relax already. 

‘So look with your heart,” Regina softly sang. ‘And not with your eyes, the heart understands; the heart never lies. Believe what it feels and trust what it shows. Look with your heart, the heart always knows...’ she shifted a bit in the bed, and instinctively, Emma held a little tighter onto her hand. Regina couldn’t leave. Not yet.

‘Love is not always beautiful, not at the start. So open your arms and close your eyes tight; look with your heart, and when it finds love, your heart will be right. Learn from someone who knows, make sure you don’t forget, love you misunderstand, is love that you... regret.’

“That’s beautiful,” Emma murmured. She wasn’t sure when she had closed her eyes, but she felt heavy, so heavy. Regina’s voice was hypnotic. “When did you-“ she suppressed a yawn. “When did you compose this?”

“I didn’t,” Regina said quietly. “Perhaps I made the melody, but it was not me who came up with the lyrics.”

“It wasn’t? Who was it then?” Emma asked. 

There was no answer, but Regina was still there. Emma was still holding her hand. “Regina?” she asked curiously and sleepy. “Who made the lyrics?”

‘Look with your heart, and not with your eyes, the heart can’t be fooled, the heart is too wise,” the words floated effortlessly from Regina’s lips and into Emma’s room where they seemed to drown out the sound of the storm and thunder. Emma’s heartbeat slowed down. The only thing existing right now, was the song Regina was singing, and the only thing grounding her, was Regina’s hand holding on to hers. The Phantom of the Opera. Dreaded by others, but an anchor to Emma. A source of fear in the choir when Killian had teased earlier, but a source of comfort for Emma right now.

‘Forget what you think, ignore what you hear, look with your heart it always sees clear. Love is not always beautiful, not at the start.... But open your arms, and close your eyes tight... Look with your heart, and when it finds love, your heart will be right....’

Regina’s ghostly, yet soothing humming filled Emma’s ears. Her hand was still holding onto Regina’s, but the grip soon weakened. Regina's hand fell away from hers. Emma wanted to protest, wanted to grab Regina's hand again, but before she could, she suddenly felt soft, warm fingers on her face. Regina was gently wiping Emma's tears away, and in no way did Emma feel like she was a child being soothed back to sleep. She felt.... something else. Something she couldn't quite describe. She was too tired. Regina's soft humming in her ears was what convinced her to finally let go, and she surrendered to what would be the most peaceful sleep she’d ever had....

To Be Continued.........


	25. Her Voice Filled My Spirit With A Strange Sweet Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm alive. I hope you'll enjoy this update.

The following evening, Emma rushed back to her room with her backpack filled to the brim with food for Regina. The day had passed so, so slowly, but now she could finally do what she had been wanting to do all day. Close the door to her room and then walk over to the mirror. She felt nothing but satisfaction as she used her shoulder to push against the old mirror. The sound it made when the mirror slid back in its frame, was terribly sharp and made all the little hairs in the back of her neck stand up, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to care. She was far too excited about seeing the now well known passage appear behind the mirror. “At last!” she mumbled to herself. This was what she had been looking forward to all day. Finally being able to slip through the mirror and visit Regina once again. The Phantom hadn’t been absent from the stage room when Emma had been rehearsing with the rest of the choir, and Emma felt oddly disappointed about that. She was so used to Regina being somewhere in the large room, and knowing that she hadn’t been there filled Emma with a feeling of emptiness. And she wanted to know why Regina hadn’t been there during today’s rehearsal’s. Not that Regina ‘owed’ her anything, of course not, but again, Emma had gotten so used to Regina’s presence. She had actually felt quite soothed, knowing that her mentor was there and making sure that she was singing like she was supposed to. When Regina wasn’t there, Emma felt oddly nervous. It affected her singing. Or so it felt. Could just be her mind playing tricks on her, but Emma was certain that Regina’s presence made the difference. 

Emma slipped through the hole behind the mirror and carefully pushed the mirror back where it belonged. She began her walk through the dark passage and realized that she had forgotten the torch Regina had given to her. Oh well. She wasn’t gonna head back and find it. She could handle a bit of darkness. She actually wasn’t afraid tonight. She was much too focused on getting to the Phantom’s lair as fast as possible, and she was certain that there was a bounce in her step. Why was that? As Regina once had put it, it was kind of odd that Emma preferred the company of the woman living in the underground lair instead of the company of her peers. But the thing was, Regina fascinated Emma. So very much. More than any of her peers ever could have. Regina was this mystical creature. Surrounded by fog and drawing Emma closer every time. Sometimes Emma felt oddly hypnotized after having been in the Phantom’s lair, and she was certain that she would be tonight too. Because tonight she was going to sing. And sustain. She was quite nervous. Would she be able to do it again? Supposed she wouldn’t. What would happen then? Regina would get so disappointed if Emma failed. And Emma would be disappointed in herself. So very disappointed. She didn’t want to fail. She wanted to do this. Wanted to make Regina proud of her.   
Something gnawed in Emma’s stomach as she walked through the dark passage. But it was not fear. It was annoyance. During dinner, Joseph Bouquet had shown up in the canteen. He had most likely been drunk. He had said stupid things. Real stupid things. Emma suspected that he had tried to scare Anna. Or perhaps it had just been the alcohol talking. Emma could still remember what he had said. 

‘Like yellow parchment is his skin, a great black hole serves as the nose that never grew. You must be always on your guard. Or he will catch you with his magical lasso!’ of course he had been talking about ‘the Phantom of the Opera’, and Emma had been forced to physically hold on to the table not to scream in Joseph Bouquet’s face. She had wanted to. Oh, how she had wanted to! How dared he turn Regina into a horror story he could scare the younger students with? Did he really think that was funny? Or was he really that stupid? 

“Regina is not like that,” Emma mumbled to the silent passage. “She’s not... She’s not a monster!” she really wasn’t, and Emma was very satisfied that not only Malena but also Mr. Gold had shown up because of the commotion. Joseph Bouquet hadn’t been quite brave enough to repeat his little ‘poem’ in front of the Opera Garnier. Instead he had mumbled something about wanting to get a sandwich before continuing his work. Mr. Gold had refused to listen to any of his nonsense and had simply informed him that this was his last chance. Joseph Bouquet had looked incredibly sullen as he stalked off, but Emma had felt nothing but satisfaction. And she was secretly hoping that he would mess up so he would be fired. That was what he deserved for saying that about Regina. Her skin was not like yellow parchment. She did have a nose, and Emma doubted that Regina had a magical lasso. But even if she did, she was NOT the monster Joseph Bouquet made her to be. Emma knew better. Emma knew the truth. 

The passageway was dark as usually, but Emma did not fear the darkness tonight. She was only eager to make it to the lair as soon as possible. Eager for her lesson with Regina, but at the same time a bit anxious too. Suppose she could not do it? Suppose the last time had been sheer dumb luck? What she had been able to reach that high note only by accident and wouldn’t be able to do it again? Regina would get so disappointed. And so would Emma. She wanted to prove yet again that she truly was Regina’s next student. She so wanted to make Regina proud. And perhaps she was hoping that Regina would take her hands between her own and squeeze them for encouragement like she had done the last time Emma sustained. Emma was willing to take any amount of pushing if it meant that Regina would take her hands again. 

And why did she so badly want Regina to take her hands again? 

Well.... Emma wasn’t so sure she had any answers to that. And even if she did, she wasn’t particularly interested in examining them. At least not yet. 

The lair was quiet when Emma stepped in. Almost eerily quiet. The candles were flickering slightly, but Emma could not hear anything, and she was a little disappointed at that. She had partially hoped that Regina would be sitting by the piano like she sometimes did. Or maybe even singing. Emma so liked it when Regina was singing. 

But tonight everything was so quiet in the lair. Was Regina even here? Emma frowned. Maybe Regina had forgotten that she would come tonight. Maybe she had changed her mind about the lesson. Or maybe she had gotten drunk and fallen asleep somewhere in the lair. Regina liked wine, Emma knew this. Maybe it wasn’t so far fetched to think that Regina was in fact drunk. Or perhaps Regina was simply hiding in the shadows, quietly observing like she sometimes did. It wouldn’t be the first time she had given Emma a fright by suddenly appearing. Sometimes Emma suspected that Regina was not ‘just’ a wonderful singer, but a magician too. How else had she gained the ability to disappear and re-appear like she sometimes did?

“Hello?” Emma called into the quiet lair. 

There was no answer, but as Emma’s eyes adjusted to the faint light in here, she saw the outline of a person. Regina. She was standing with her back to Emma. Most of her was concealed by her trademark black cloak. But why was she so still? What was going on? 

Emma hesitantly walked over to her. Got in front of her so she could see her face. But Regina did not look like she was seeing anything at the moment. She was staring blankly straight ahead. In her hands she was holding Christine’s diary. Emma immediately recognized the little flower patterned book. Regina was cradling it to her chest. Holding it so gently as though it was a newborn baby and not a diary.

What secrets were hiding inside that diary, Emma wondered. She so wanted to know, but it did not take long before her attention was turned elsewhere. To the fact that Regina still was not reacting.

“Regina?” Emma said hesitantly. “Regina are you....” she trailed off and her mouth fell open in shock when she saw the stray tear that rolled down her visible cheek. Emma gasped. Regina... Regina was crying! Of all the things Emma had expected could happen in this lair, this was not one of them. God, Regina was CRYING! The sight made Emma feel panicked, had no idea what to do with herself. Didn’t know which question to ask. If even any. What was the chance that Regina would actually answer her if Emma asked why she was crying?

But still.... Regina was crying, and Emma wanted to do something about it. Needed to do something about it. HAD to do something about it. She wanted to comfort Regina like Regina had comforted her, but she didn’t know how. She doubted Regina was upset because of a bit of bad weather. 

What could cause the Phantom of the Opera to cry? Emma had looked into Regina’s eyes enough times to know that her mind was full of ghosts. But which ghosts? What secrets did those dark eyes of her hold? Regina would not tell her. She refused to give anything away about herself. Emma still knew so little about the woman who called herself The Phantom of the Opera and resented being called by her own name. 

And the only other person who had known anything about Regina was dead. There was no one to ask. No one who knew Regina.

Emma slowly inched closer to Regina. A part of her wanted to reach out and touch her, but she didn’t quite have the courage to do so. She feared that Regina would jerk away from the touch or maybe even yell at her. So instead she simply inched a little bit closer. 

Regina didn’t react to that in anyway. The only part of her moving was her eyelid. She blinked, and another tear spilled onto her cheek. She blinked again, and this time, a single, fresh tear spilled onto her white mask and left a wet trail behind as it slid down. 

“Regina?” Emma said again. When Regina didn’t react to that either, Emma made a very bold choice. She slowly reached out and hesitantly brushed her fingertips against Regina’s hand. 

THAT made Regina react. She immediately pulled her hand back, away from Emma’s. Then she blinked once. No tears spilled onto her cheeks this time. Instead her dark eyes focused on Emma. “Well, well,” she said in her usual drawl. “There you are. Perfect timing, Little Swan. I was getting hungry. Do you have something for me?”

“I- yes,” Emma said, slightly befuddled. “But...”

“But what?” 

“Are you...” Emma drew in a quick breath. “Are you okay?”

Regina seemed highly amused by this question. She raised the eyebrow that was visible and then she chuckled a tad coldly. “Such big questions already. And you’ve only just arrived.”

Emma was not swayed by the way Regina avoided the question. “You’re... You’re crying,” she said quietly. 

“So?” Regina said plainly and lifted a hand. She wiped her cheek. “Did you assume that I am incapable of feeling things?” 

“Of course not!” Emma said firmly, blood boiling when Joseph Bouquet’s ‘the phantom of the opera is a monster’ nonsense popped up in her head again. “I was just... wondering why?”

“That,” Regina said as she loosened her grip on the diary slightly. “Is none of your business, Little Swan.”

Emma bristled. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy. I just wanted to help you.”

“Help me?” Regina raised an eyebrow. “I doubt you’d be capable of that.”

“Maybe it would help if you talked about it?” Emma suggested without believing for a second that Regina would actually do that. 

Regina chuckled dryly. “Oh no, Little Swan. Nothing good would come from talking about it, believe me.”

Emma tilted her head. “How can you be so sure?” as soon as she had said it, she worried she had crossed some sort of line. Regina narrowed her eyes at her, causing Emma to bow her head and   
immediately dropping the subject. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. 

Regina did not react to her apology at all. She just said: “now I shall eat my dinner. And then you shall sing for me.”

Emma was immediately distracted by this. Regina’s tactical change of subject worked, and Emma nodded and felt a flicker of anxiety in her belly. Yes, she would sing for Regina. Hopefully. God, what if she could not? What if her voice refused to obey? Or what if she got distracted somehow? That could easily happen. Especially when Regina was wearing that... that dress. It was a black one. Made of lace and very... pretty. There was... quite a lot of skin on display, and Emma briefly wondered in which performance THAT dress had been used. And who had used it previously. It looked like it had been painted directly onto Regina’s skin.

Emma swallowed something and noted that there was a lump in her throat. She tried clearing it very quietly, hoping that Regina would not pick up on it, but of course she did. “I do hope you’re not planning on fainting tonight,” she said dryly as she brushed a hand over her feather cloak. 

Emma blushed. “I... I promise I won’t.”

“I will leave you on the floor if you do,” Regina said plainly as she ripped off a piece of the bread roll Emma had brought for her. She stuffed it inside her mouth and carefully chewed and swallowed before continuing: “I don’t have time to carry to bed. And I’m certainly not planning on letting you stay here again.”

“I promise I won’t faint,” Emma said and tried to quell the feeling of being unwelcome. If Regina did not want to see her, she could have told her so earlier. Maybe she was being unkind because Emma had asked questions a moment ago. She sometimes reacted this way to let Emma know that she had crossed an invisible line.

Regina scoffed, unimpressed and clearly not giving a lot for Emma’s promises. “We’ll see about that, Little Swan. Last time you could not handle it.”

“I can this time!” Emma insisted. “Last time I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. But tonight I do.”

The Phantom flashed her an amused look. “Think so, do you?”

“Yes!”

“Hmm.” Regina turned her attention back to her food. But Emma couldn’t help but notice that she was wiping her cheek now and then. 

Emma tilted her head and bit her lip. Once again, she felt unexplainably bold and asked: “why are you sad?”

Regina did not answer. She merely scoffed. 

“Can I at least know what you’re thinking about?” Emma pressed. Where did this sudden courage come from? Was she not at all afraid that Regina would kick her out of the lair. 

“Erik.”

Emma blinked. “What?”

“Erik,” Regina mumbled once more. 

Emma was confused. “Who... Who is Erik?” 

“Erik is... what should have been,” Regina said darkly and touched her mask lightly.

“I don’t understa-“

“You came here to sing,” Regina interrupted harshly. “Not to play twenty questions!”

Emma held her tongue and did not ask anything else. But her head was full of questions. Who was Erik? And why was Regina thinking about him? Emma was so confused and positively aching to ask. But she was afraid of making Regina angry. 

“Now then,” Regina said. “Let’s start the lesson.” Her mouth curved into a half smile under the mask. “Are you ready, Little Swan?”

“Yes,” Emma mumbled. Her throat felt all dry and raw. 

Once again, Regina seemed amused. Another mood swing. “Warm up then,” she said lazily and tipped her head back. 

Emma proceeded to do her usual warm up routine, and while doing so, she looked at Regina. Saw how she closed her eyes. Perhaps it was just wistful thinking on Emma’s part, but it looked like Regina breathed more easily when she sang. Emma truly hoped that was the case. She quite liked the idea of her voice having a calming effect on Regina. Perhaps she was making things a little easier for Regina. Maybe she was even soothing her.

Regina absentmindedly hummed along to Emma’s ‘do-re-mi’s’, and that made Emma feel happy too. She so liked singing with Regina. It didn’t matter that it was just humming and not real singing. 

“A bit louder if you please, Little Swan,” Regina drawled. “You didn’t come here to whisper, did you?”

Instead of answering, Emma sang louder. Her do-re-mi’s echoed in the lair, and she was positive she was not hallucinating. Regina was most definitely smiling a little bit now. Her mood changed so fast, but as long as she smiled, Emma did not care...

As it turned out, Emma was nervous about singing again. And her voice reflected that. It trembled and shook, and she felt like she could barely get the words out. But Regina egged her on. Coaxed her. Even glared at her, and eventually, Emma felt brave enough to begin the actual lesson. 

“Let’s try ‘the phantom of the opera’ again, shall we?” Regina said almost lazily and without standing from her position on the floor. 

“You’re going to duet with me again?” Emma asked and couldn’t quite quell her excitement at that. 

“Yes indeed,” Regina drawled. “Now sing, Little Swan. I’m waiting.”

“Right. Sorry.” Emma cleared her throat and then began: “’In sleep she sang to me, in dreams she came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name, and do I dream again, for now I find... The phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind!’”

“’Sing once again with me, our strange duet,’” Regina sang, and her voice soared effortlessly. The rich mezzo filled the lair exactly like the last time. And once again, Emma wanted to drown herself in those tunes. Her only request was that Regina kept singing until the end of time. 

“’My power over you, grows stronger yet! And though you turn from me to glance behind, the Phantom of the opera is there... inside your mind!’”

Emma knew that she was supposed to sing the next part, but she was distracted. Disappointed that Regina had stopped singing. And she felt a reluctance building inside her. Once again, Joseph Bouquet’s stupid ‘monster-talk’ filled her mind. 

Regina glared at her. “Sing. Now.” 

There was no room for argument in her voice. Emma sang: “’T-those who have seen your face, draw back in fear, I am the mask you wear-“’

“’It’s me, they hear!’” Regina sang it in a way that made it seem drawling, and Emma felt goosebumps pebble all over her flesh. For whatever reason, Regina’s voice seemed to be going straight to Emma’s legs. They were shaking, and she felt so weak all over. Her skin was tingling in anticipation. She felt strangely out of control. Like her body was all tense and on edge. Ready to combust at any moment.

“’Your spirit, and my voice...’”

“’My spirit, and your voice...’” Regina’s voice made Emma shiver from top to toe like she was freezing. And yet she felt her palms going damp. Her heart started thrumming and sweat was gathering at the back of her neck. Something coiled somewhere low in her belly. 

“’In one combines, the Phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind!” where Emma sang ‘my’ Regina sang ‘your’, and Emma felt slightly dizzy. Lightheaded.

“In all your fantasies, you always knew,’” Regina sang, and now there was the slightest hint of menace in her voice. Like singing those words amused her. “’That woman and mystery....’”

“’W-were both in you,” Emma sang and reminded herself not to stutter. She didn’t want to stutter. And especially not when she and Regina were singing together. “’And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the opera is here, inside my/your mind...’” Because she knew exactly what was coming now. Knew what she was supposed to do. What Regina expected of her. ‘Beware, the Phantom of the opera! She’s there, the Phantom of the opera,’” she sang with a voice that almost trembled. 

“Yes,” Regina drawled. “Sing for me, Little Swan!” her voice was not loud anymore. It was low and demanding and.... Emma truly felt as though the Phantom really was inside her mind!

Emma sang. She let her voice climb that ladder and silently prayed that she could do this. She felt her voice beginning to strain as she climbed higher and higher. This was still new territory to her.

“That’s it,” Regina coaxed. “Sing!” she had at last risen from her sitting position on the ground and was now walking back and forward behind Emma. Almost like she was a predator and Emma was her prey. 

Emma drew in a quick breath before letting her voice climb just a little higher. She was reaching her limit. Reaching the point where her eyes started watering and her throat ached. 

“Sing!” Regina demanded. “Sustain the note! Control it! Own it! This is your voice, and you can make it do your bidding if you truly want it!” 

Another sharp intake of breath. Emma’s voice filled the lair. Higher than she had ever heard it, but strangely enough controlled. She wasn’t just screaming at the top of her lungs. No, she was singing. The candle lights flickered in the lair. The floor seemed to tremble. Or perhaps Emma was the one who trembled.

“Hold it!” Regina almost snapped. “Hold that note or I will kick you out of my lair!”

For some reason, the threat only egged Emma on. She started walking. Once again pulled by a string, she walked towards Regina even though she had not told her to do so. Emma was merely following an instinct. Following what her voice told her to do. The clear tones filled her ears and mind and chest and for a moment she swore her feet were levitating off the ground. She was soaring. And even though the intensity of it all should have made her want to close her eyes, she did not. She kept her gaze fixed at Regina. The Phantom of the opera had closed her eyes as she ran her fingers through her thick, dark hair. If Emma didn’t know any better, she would say that Regina was in some kind of trance. 

But then Regina opened her eyes again, and when she did, Emma saw that her eyes were nearly black. That should have frightened Emma. But it did not. If anything, it only made her eager, and her steps became more determined. She even wanted to reach out and take Regina’s hand, but she wasn’t quite brave enough to do so. 

“Yes! Sing!” Regina nearly yelled. 

Emma was now standing in front of her, and however impossible it sounded, her voice was fueled by Regina’s demand. Her voice kept soaring and soaring. Perhaps it would never stop. Perhaps she would never run out of air again. She didn’t want to. She wanted to keep singing until Regina told her she did good. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes stinging with unshed tears for some reason, but she did not stop singing. 

“My Angel of Music,” Regina suddenly almost cooed, and Emma nearly yelped in the middle of singing. Almost distracted, but not quite. Regina’s dark gaze was still rooting her to the spot. The only thing rooting her to the spot. Once again, that something coiled low her belly. Tingled in a way that had Emma wishing she could gasp out loud. 

“Sing!” Regina yelled and suddenly she grabbed Emma harshly by the elbow and spun her around, so she was standing with her back to her. 

Emma lifted her hands. Threw her head back and felt her hair spill down her back. Her chest jerked forward, completely uncontrolled. Steered by powers that were far greater than the ones Emma possessed. Her mouth fell open completely. The last high note exploded out of her mouth in a clear, earth shattering beautiful tune that sounded completely unearthly. That sound couldn’t possibly come out of her mouth. It shouldn’t haven’t been possible. The tingles exploded in her belly like a volcano erupting. Like a bonfire someone had poured gasoline on. Suddenly, she could feel the music in parts of her body she had not expected. Could feel it in the most delightful yet confusing way. Before, she had felt this dull throbbing, but now she felt nothing but satisfying relief in certain parts of her body. 

Later, when she became more aware, she would feel embarrassed and flustered by it, but right now she wasn’t capable of thinking about anything except what just had occurred. She had just sustained a very high note for the second time in her life. That was twice more than she had hoped. She was amazed that she was capable of that. That she could make her voice do that. 

Well... that REGINA could make her voice do that. This would never have been possible without Regina. She was the one who had convinced Emma that she could do this. She was the one with the control. 

Control over Emma’s voice. 

Emma did not mind that at all.

It felt like the tune had not yet died out and was still echoing inside her head and in the lair when she found herself stumbling backwards, gasping for air for more reason than one. She felt like a complete mess. The only part of herself she currently had control over was her voice. Or perhaps not. Perhaps the Phantom of the opera was the one who had control over Emma’s voice. But that did not matter. Emma’s voice had done her bidding. But for a price. Her throat and chest was burning. So was her skin. So was her abdomen. But that was a very different kind of burning. A kind of burning she had not experienced before, and it left her lightheaded and exhausted yet yearning for more immediately. 

Her legs were caving in. Emma could feel it. Her knees buckled, and for a moment she feared that she would collapse on the floor once more. But then she found herself stumbling backwards once again. 

She collided with something. Someone. Regina. 

“Do not faint,” Regina hissed in her ear. “Don’t you dare! Control yourself!”

“I’m t-t-t-trying,” Emma rasped. “It’s... my legs. I can’t... stand.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Regina said, but her voice was not unkind. Nor was the arm she rather suddenly draped around Emma’s neck. 

Emma heard herself gasp when she felt long, and surprisingly warm fingers splay wide over her collarbone. Her eyes slid closed, and as on instinct she dropped her head and let it rest against the arm around her neck. If she had been feeling lightheaded a moment ago, it was nothing compared to what she was feeling right now. The sensation of Regina’s arm around her neck was almost too much. 

“Excellent job at not fainting,” Regina said. There was just a touch of sarcasm to her words. “Perhaps I’ll reward you with telling you a story tomorrow night...”

“Wha- what kind of story?” Emma asked strained. She didn’t even have the strength to lift her head. 

Regina did not answer. She merely started humming, and as she did so, she lightly began swaying Emma back and forward. 

Emma felt like she was melting. Completely and utterly. This was another thing she most certainly not had expected would happen. It was as surprising as Regina’s tears, but this did not unnerve Emma like the sight of Regina crying had done. This made her feel... other things. The throbbing she had found relief for a moment ago, was back in full force, and it was harder than ever to stay upright. If it hadn’t been for Regina’s arm around her neck, she most certainly would have ended up on the floor. 

Regina stopped humming and murmured: “I do believe you feel the music now, don’t you?”

Emma could not answer. And she honestly wasn’t completely sure what she was feeling. Music. Something else. She couldn’t describe it. But she did know that this for some reason made her feel bold again. Bold enough to do something potentially stupid. She wanted... She wanted to touch Regina. Couldn’t explain why, she just did. Slowly, she lifted her hand. She could feel the slight tremor in her fingers as she inched closer to what she wanted to touch. Regina’s face. Just once. Just to feel if Regina’s cheek was as warm and smooth as her hand was. 

But when her fingers were merely inches from the Phantom’s face, Regina seemed to wake up from the brief trance. Her hand shot out and she grabbed Emma’s tightly. Removed her arm from around her neck so abruptly, Emma’s head almost dropped. It was at the last minute she managed to lift her head. She opened her eyes and looked at Regina. Her eyes were still dark. Her gaze unreadable behind the white half-mask. Her mouth drawn into a thin line. And she was still grabbing Emma’s hand too tightly. 

“No,” Regina said tightly. Nothing else. 

“I’m... I’m sorry,” Emma said, blushing. “I don’t know why I....” she truly didn’t. She could not explain what had possessed her to wanting to touch Regina like that. And she could even less explain why she was disappointed about having been denied permission to touch Regina. She had so wanted to. The yearning to do so were almost burning in her fingertips and making them itch.

“Do not do it again,” Regina said as she unceremoniously dropped Emma’s hand. 

“I promise I won’t!” Emma said quickly, rushing to assure Regina. Her fingertips were still itching, but she refused to react to it in anyway. She honestly did not know what had possessed her when she thought that touching Regina would be a good idea. “I will still see you tomorrow though, right? Won’t I?”

“Do you think I want to go a whole day without food?” Regina snipped. “Of course you will see me tomorrow. But there will be no singing. I think there has been quite a lot of that for now.”

“Alright.” Emma could live with that. She wasn’t even sure she would be capable of singing tomorrow anyway.

“I want you to leave now,” Regina continued, still tonelessly. “The lesson is over.” 

Emma repeated her ‘alright’ and quickly grabbed her backpack. She obediently trotted over to the passageway, but right before slipping through it, she turned around and said: “thank you.” 

“For what exactly?” Regina asked dully. She had turned around so her back was facing Emma. “For the lesson or what you felt?”

Emma did not answer that. Instead she more or less just ran out of the lair with a mouth drier than a desert, an aching throbbing between her legs, and the overwhelming need to take a shower. 

Something had changed tonight. She had changed. And so had her feelings for The Phantom of the Opera. Now more than ever, she could not wait to return to the lair tomorrow night...... 

To Be Continued.....


	26. A Mask, Her First Unfeeling Scrap Of Clothing

Of course Emma was completely beside herself when she returned to her room. She brushed her hair. Tied it back in a braid. Wiped off the makeup. When she had looked at herself in the mirror, she had been horrified to discover that her eye makeup was completely smudged. She looked like a panda or a racoon, and she was incredibly surprised that Regina hadn’t laughed at her. Perhaps the light in the lair had been too dim for the Phantom to see her properly. 

Next, Emma had brushed her teeth. Longer than she normally did because she had gotten distracted. When she finally stopped brushing and spat the toothpaste out, her gums were all sore and achy. She washed her face one last time and then left the tiny bathroom. Back in the bedroom, she stripped out of her white choir dress and slipped a pair of pajama bottoms on. The pajama shirt was next, but once again, she was distracted for a moment as she stood there with her arms slipped through the pajama shirt. She hadn’t yet buttoned it, and the thing that distracted her was her collarbone. Emma lightly traced the bone with her fingertip and was immediately taken back to the lair. Back to right after she had sustained and hit that note. Her legs had threatened to cave in. Regina had been behind her. She had caught her. Her long fingers had been splayed wide over Emma’s collarbone. The very same place Emma was touching right now. 

Emma shivered. Couldn’t help it. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth when that same tingling feeling she had felt earlier, returned and settled somewhere low in her belly. Like an itch she was aching to scratch but couldn’t quite reach.

Sighing, Emma slipped under the covers and tried to make herself comfortable. Wiggled, but did not succeed. Would she even be able to sleep tonight? 

Doubtful. Her head was full of thoughts. About Regina. How she had walked back and forward in the lair. Her taunting. The way she had pushed her to sustain the note. And how it had worked. How she had grabbed Emma and spun her around. Sing, my Angel of Music, Emma’s mind whispered, and she shivered at the memory. Regina’s long fingers splaying out on her collarbone. Emma bit her lip again as she remembered the way her head had lolled to the side and rested in the crook of Regina’s arm. The way Regina had swayed her back and forward whilst humming in her ear. It had made goosebumps appear on the back of Emma’s neck then, and goosebumps had appeared on the back of her neck right now as she was reliving the moment. She shifted uneasily in the bed. Tried to get comfortable yet again, but did not succeed. Not even remotely. The only thing that kind of worked was if she pressed her thighs together. That soothed the ache she was currently feeling between her thighs. 

Emma had looked at girls before. There had been one or two that had made her heart beat faster. There had been a couple of them she had found beautiful. Two years ago at school, she had come close to kissing a girl. Katie Williams. She’d had the most beautiful long dark hair Emma ever had seen. And big dark eyes. Emma had been awfully smitten with her. Katie had sat in front of her all year, and   
Emma had spent quite a while with looking at the back of her neck. Katie always wore her hair up. Emma’s fifteen year old mind had been convinced that she was in love with Katie, and for a while it had seemed like her feelings was reciprocated. Katie had held her hand. Had touched her cheek and had playfully asked what Emma would do if she was to kiss her. Emma had said ‘nothing’ and had waited with bated breath. Katie had come closer and closer. Her lips had been right there, but then the bell had chimed, and they had no choice but to go back inside to attend the next lesson. Katie had been weird the next day. She had asked Emma never to mention it to anyone. After that, she had never touched Emma’s cheek or held her hand. They had remained friends until Emma had left for Paris, but it had never quite been the same afterwards. Emma’s infatuation had faded, and she hadn’t remotely felt like that about anyone again. Until.......

Emma sighed. She was no idiot. She was well aware that her feelings towards Regina were slipping into something that was more than friendly. And she was also aware that these feelings she had no were a hell of a lot stronger than the feelings she’d had for Katie Williams two years ago. And last but not least, she knew that she was being a little idiot. Developing feelings for the Phantom of the Opera? What was she, insane? This was not like the thing with Katie Williams. For many reasons. The first reason coming to mind was the fact that Regina was not a girl. She was most certainly a woman. A woman who wore mysteries like a cloak and spoke a lot but never actually said something. Nothing was certain when it came to Regina. One night she was holding Emma’s hand to soothe her fears, and the next she would be snipping at her and threaten to kick her out of the lair. Regina was unpredictable. You could look at her and her face would be completely unreadable. Her mind as impenetrable as the white mask covering one half of her face. Emma did not fear the mask anymore. She was most certainly curious about what was underneath it, but looking at her mask did not fill her with the same of fear as it had at first. 

Emma rolled onto her belly and mashed her face into the pillow. God, she was so stupid. So, so stupid. How could she have allowed herself to develop feelings for the Phantom of the Opera? What had started out as an ‘investigation’ to find out what happened to Christine Daaé, had now turned into something completely else. Somehow, Emma had crossed some sort of line. At least she had in her mind.   
What she felt for Regina was more than friendship, she was certain of that. 

To compare, Emma thought of Lily. Lily was her friend. But Emma did not feel giddy when Lily praised her. She wasn’t filled with the same kind of warmth every time she saw Lily’s face. And she certainly did not anticipate the next time Lily would grab her by the shoulder or squeeze her hand a little too tightly or even say something bitingly sarcastic. Lily was her friend. But she was not attracted to her.   
But she WAS attracted to Regina. An older woman. A masked stranger living in the catacombs of the opera. A woman she didn’t know the first thing about apart from her name. The Phantom of the Opera. 

Emma chuckled bitterly to herself. The irony in all of this was not lost on her. What was it her parents jokingly had warned her about before sending her off to Paris with a kiss and a hug? ‘Don’t talk to strangers’. And what had Emma done? Talked to strangers. Or at least a stranger. The strangest of strangers, even. 

Emma groaned into the pillow. “I’m so stupid,” she said, voice muffled. She felt ridiculous for acknowledging her feelings like this, and she certainly would NEVER tell Regina about it! God, the thought alone! She could easily imagine how Regina would either laugh hysterically or chase her out of the lair. Or possibly both. Regina did not see her like that at all. Sometimes Emma had a feeling that she barely was Regina’s friend. Maybe all she was to Regina, was a silly little girl who needed help with singing. Emma huffed into the pillow. She didn’t WANT Regina to see her as a little girl. She wanted   
Regina to see her as a woman. And of course, thinking that only made Emma feel even more childish and immature. Suddenly, she disliked her babyface and soft voice. She disliked her tendency to blush when embarrassed and cry when scared. She hated the way her bottom lip would tremble when she was upset. And more than anything, she hated that she was only seventeen instead of say.... twenty one. In her mind, certain things would have been more likely to happen if she was twenty one instead of seventeen. 

But exactly WHAT was it that she wanted to happen? 

Emma once again thought of the way Regina’s arm had been draped around her neck. Her long fingers splayed out on her collarbone, and her husky, velvet voice humming in her ear, and she felt her cheeks heat up. Of course. How predicable. She squirmed in the bed. Pulled up the covers to shield her head. It didn’t get any less warmer because of that. And the tingling sensation between her thighs only seemed to grow stronger. It wasn’t just an itch now. More like a throbbing sensation. Falling asleep tonight was gonna be more than hard. She had to stop thinking about Regina. Now. But no matter what she did, her thoughts kept circulating back to the Phantom of the Opera. Back to their lesson. Back to the promise Regina had made. That she would tell a story tomorrow night. Emma wondered what kind of story that would be? She couldn’t wait to find out. It didn’t matter if they weren’t gonna sing tomorrow night. Any moment she had spent with Regina was time well spent. Singing, stories, rebuffs and snark nonstop for an hour, it did not make the slightest difference to Emma....

Of course Emma was completely exhausted when her alarm went off as exactly 6 AM the following morning. She fumbled blindly and managed to smack the clock radio, so it stopped making so much noise. Then she groaned and rolled onto her stomach. Mashed her face into the pillow and pulled the covers over her head. In no way did she feel like getting out of bed. But she knew she had to, so after a few minutes where she silently told herself off for falling asleep so late, she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Regretted all her life choices as she pushed her hair away from her face. Then she got out of bed. Reached within her dresser and found her white chorus dress. Her blue headband. She slipped on her glasses and convinced herself that it helped a little. The world was less blurry now. And of course that was a good thing. She half-stumbled into the bathroom. Took off her glasses again, stripped out of her pajamas and stepped into the shower. She showed no mercy upon herself and yelped when she felt the ice cold water against her skin. Sadistic? Yes, indeed. But necessary too. This would definitely wake her up. And that was exactly what she needed. It was her own fault for falling asleep so late. The clock radio had shown 02:00 the last time she had looked at it. Her head had been full of thoughts about Regina. Thoughts about her hands and her voice. Those long fingers that had been splayed wide on Emma’s collarbone. How she had swayed Emma back and forward whilst humming in her ear. How much Emma had wanted to reach up and touch her cheek. Just once. And then of course there had been that particular FEELING between Emma’s legs. That feeling that had sent her into the bathroom first thing after returning from the lair. That feeling that had left her both embarrassed and relieved at the same time. Emma had only experienced that feeling once in her life, and it had been so briefly she barely had understood what it meant. But now, as she stood under the spray of cold water, she understood exactly what had happened to her last night. Though Emma could be naïve sometimes, she was not THAT naïve. She had read enough books and watched enough movies to know what had happened last night. She understood what Regina had made her do. With her voice only. She hadn’t even touched Emma.

Despite the cold water, Emma felt a flush creep up her neck. Had Regina noticed what had happened with her body last night? Did she know? What if she did? How was Emma supposed to look her in the eyes then?

Emma felt stupid. But definitely not like a little girl. For some ridiculous reason, she felt more... grownup. Her body felt different. Matured. She took a breath and tried to calm down before the thoughts about last night would turn into more tingles between her legs. 

She concluded her shower and wrapped a towel tightly around her body. Wrenched water out of her, then brushed it and tied it back into its usual tight braid. Then she got dressed in her white chorus dress. She wiped her glasses clean and slipped them on. Now the world looked all bright again. But she did not. She looked properly tired with dark circles underneath her eyes. She quickly applied a bit of concealer to hide the circles. That was a little better. Her eyes still looked a bit dead, but she did not have time to do anything about that. She had to get back in her room so she could do a little bit of warming up. The choir always warmed up together under Mal’s or Mme. Carlotta’s supervision, but Emma quite liked to do her own warmup. It made her feel less self-conscious. 

Emma returned to her room where she found her nodes for the piece they were rehearsing today. “Vecchia zimarra” from La Boheme. She really liked that one. Then she began her warmup. Started with her breathing. Loosened up in the shoulders. Then the scales. Up and down like a little bird, as her grandmother once had told her. Her throat still hurt after last night. So did her chest. She was sore after having sustained that note for such a long time. But the soreness she felt today had been every bit worth it. Because Regina had said that she understood the music now. Emma wondered exactly what that meant. Would their lessons change now? And in what way? Would they start singing something else? And that wasn’t the only mystery. Emma remembered what Regina had said last night. That she wanted to tell Emma a story tonight. What kind of story, Emma wondered. Then she realized that she did not care. Whatever Regina told her, was of interest. Because it meant that they were spending time together, and that was just about the only thing Emma wanted. To spend time with Regina. 

Suddenly, Emma heard a noise. Just the faintest little skitter. That wouldn’t have made her pause and stop the warm-up. The Opera Garnier was an old building. And old buildings tended to creak and make a lot of sounds. But this sound was interesting because it seemed to come from behind her mirror. Emma continued her scales, pretending not to have noticed in the hopes that the sound would come back. And it did. The tiniest of scuffling sounds behind the mirror. Emma paused her warmup again and walked closer to the mirror. “Hello?” she gently called. “Is that you, Regina?” who else would it be? 

There was no answer. Just more skittering. 

Emma chuckled. “Come on, Regina. Say something. I know you’re there.” she paused for a second. “Or is it a rat who has found its way up here? I really, really hope not!”

“I am no rat,” came the slightly muffled response from behind the mirror. 

Emma chuckled again. “What are you doing there?” 

“I needed to stretch my legs,” Regina replied. “And I came here in the hopes to hear you sing. But unfortunately, you’re talking. Again.”

“I can definitely sing instead of talking,” Emma said lightly and inquired: “have you been standing there for a long time?”

“God no. Forgive me, Little Swan, but I’m not really interested in hearing you sleep.”

“Why won’t you ever call me Emma?” Emma asked spontaneously. Not that she minded being called ‘Little Swan’. Quite the contrary. She was merely curious.

“’Emma’?” Regina repeated, and now she was the one to be amused. “Is that your first name?”

“Yes,” Emma said slightly surprised. “Did you... Did you not know that?”

“No. I did not.” Regina chortled behind the mirror. “Emma....Swan. How sweet. Like in a fairytale.”

Emma tilted her head and narrowed her eyes although she knew that Regina could not see it. “Why do I get the feeling that you don’t mean that in a nice way?”

“Because I never mean anything in a nice way,” Regina calmly retorted. 

“That’s not true,” Emma protested. “You told me to take the torch back through the passage. That was nice.”

“Was it?” Regina chortled again. “Perhaps I was hoping that you would light yourself on fire, Little Swan.”

“I don’t believe that’s true. And you also once told me which way to go in the passageway. You gave me the right direction so I wouldn’t end up in the wrong place.”

“Perhaps I was using reversed psychology. Perhaps I hoped that you WOULD take the wrong turn and end up in the wrong place...”

“No,” Emma said calmly. “I don’t believe that.”

For a moment, Regina was so quiet behind the mirror that Emma thought she had disappeared, but then the Phantom spoke again: “you’re right,” she said calmly. “I do not have the habit of sending young girls to their death...”

“I didn’t believe that either. I don’t believe that you’re capable of-“

“Sing,” Regina interrupted. Voice stern and steely. 

Emma did as she was told and started her warmup. Scales. Up and down like a little bird. Regina remained completely quiet while she did so, but Emma just knew that Regina was there. Her instincts told her so. 

When she was done, she asked Regina: “well? What do you think?”

“Your voice is tired after last night. You must drink some ginger tea at breakfast.”

“I will,” Emma promised. “Are we going to sing tonight?”

“No. Tonight I will tell you a story.”

“Alright. About what?” 

“You will find out,” was all Regina said, and Emma accepted that she wouldn’t get a straight answer. 

“Will you be there when I sing with the choir today?” she asked instead. 

“I wasn’t planning to,” Regina replied. 

“Please?” Emma asked. “It could be nice if you were there.”

Regina chuckled darkly. “If I was there, you wouldn’t even know it, Little Swan.”

“Yes, I would,” Emma insisted. “I have an instinct.”

“An instinct,” Regina repeated, and her voice suddenly sounded a bit... different. Perhaps a bit wistful. 

Emma latched onto any chance she had of talking to Regina. “Do you go other places except for the stage room and costume room?”

“Where would I go, Little Swan?”

“I don’t know...” Emma scratched the back of her neck. “Outside, perhaps?”

“Outside....” Regina murmured, and for a moment, Emma feared that she had crossed a line. But all Regina said was: “yes. I’ve been outside once or twice.”

Emma grasped the subject with both hands. “How do you go outside? Do you just use the main entrance, or-“

Knock-knock-knock!

Emma yelped in pure surprise at the sudden interruption. 

“Emma?” came Ruby’s voice from behind the door. “It’s time for breakfast!”

“I’ll be right there!” Emma squeaked. God, that had scared her!

“Better hurry,” Ruby half-warned. “Otherwise you’ll end up being late!”

“Okay, I’m coming!” Emma assured. She heard Ruby’s footsteps retreating, and once positive that the older student was gone, she turned back to the mirror: “Regina?”

But there was no answer. Regina was gone. 

Feeling slightly disappointed, Emma grabbed her bag and left her room. 

When she came into the hallway, it became clear that Ruby had hung back to wait for her. Emma flashed her a smile and greeted: “good morning!”

“Good morning,” Ruby said and returned the smile. “Are you ready to go and grab some breakfast?”

“Yep, I sure am,” Emma nodded. 

“Great. Let’s get going then.”

Emma and Ruby walked down the hallway together. Emma’s thoughts were still swirling around Regina and the fact that she had been behind the mirror. It was a shame that there conversation had been cut short. 

“Who were you talking to?” Ruby asked suddenly. 

“Huh?”

“It sounded like you were talking to someone,” the older student clarified. 

“Oh!” Emma flushed. “No, I was... I was talking to myself. I sometimes do.” 

Ruby looked as though she bought the lie, and Emma was relieved. 

After breakfast, the choir went into the stage room to start rehearsing. Emma found her spot in the back and waited patiently as Malena gave them their instructions. Today Ruby was not singing solo. Elsa was. It was important for Ruby to rest her voice sometimes, but Elsa was not her understudy. No one could be Ruby’s understudy. That was what Malena once had told them. And Ruby had laughed. But Malena was completely serious. Ruby was essential to the concert. Her voice was the glue holding everything together, and Emma had never heard a more accurate description, really. Ruby was the start while the rest of the choir was background singers. That was how it was supposed to be. And even though Elsa (and the rest of them for that matter) knew every word to the songs Ruby were singing, it wouldn’t be the same concert if Elsa was the one to sing solo. It had to be Ruby, and that was final.

Emma zoned out as Malena gave Elsa her instructions. She didn’t need to pay attention to the things Malena said to Elsa. Instead she busied herself with looking around in the large stage room. It didn’t take her long to realize that she not so subtly was looking for Regina. Silently hoping that The Phantom of the Opera would be here to see her rehearse. Emma liked the idea of Regina watching her as she sang. It made her feel as though her *real* teacher was present. She felt guilty the moment she thought it, but she couldn’t help but feeling that was. Malena was great and so was Mme. Carlotta. But they weren’t half as good at teaching her to sing as Regina was. She was tough, yes indeed, but also brilliant. And... And beautiful....

Emma quietly cleared her throat and curled her hands into fists. Her thoughts were straying again. Regina was her teacher. She was not supposed to think like this about her. But she could not help it. It was as though last night had changed something. Regina’s long fingers on her collarbone. Regina’s voice in her ear as she hummed. Regina swaying her back and forward. Emma’s hand inching higher and burning to touch Regina’s face...

“Mademoiselle Swan?”

Emma blinked and immediately looked up at Malena. “Yes, Malena?”

“Are you still with us?” Malena asked kindly, but nevertheless with a raised eyebrow. She didn’t particularly like when her students wasn’t paying attention. And Emma was her student. No matter how   
much she wanted to be Regina’s student only......

“Yes,” Emma said hastily. “I’m ready!” a little too cheery. She heard Killian laugh somewhere in the row. 

“Excellent,” Malena said lightly. “Let’s begin then...”

Emma started singing along with the rest of the choir, but it didn’t take long before she felt the skin in the back of her neck tighten. That could only mean one thing. Regina was here. She was watching from somewhere in the shadows......

When Emma came back to her room the following night, it was with a heart thudding too loudly in her chest, and a backpack full of food. She was beyond excited. Soon she would open the mirror and disappear into the secret passageway behind it. Soon she would see Regina again. But first she had to text her mother. That was important. Emma felt sort of guilty. She hadn’t really been talking much to her parents recently. She had been too busy with rehearsing. At least that was the official explanation. The less official one was that she had been too consumed with the mystery that was the Phantom of the Opera. 

So she sat down on the edge of her bed and sent a text to her mother. She had asked how she and her dad was doing, she had apologized for being so busy, and then she had promised that she would call tomorrow for a proper chat. It didn’t take long before her mom texted back. She was very happy to hear from Emma. She told that both she and Emma’s dad were doing good. They were looking forward to coming to Paris in five months for the concert, and they were looking forward to talking to Emma tomorrow. That only made Emma feel even more guilty. She hadn’t been a very attentive daughter lately. She promised herself that she would do better in the future. But her parents and Storybrooke had never felt farther away. It seemed like a completely different live she had lived when she lived in Storybrooke. And to imagine that she almost chose not to go to Paris because she was scared of not fitting in. Emma scoffed to herself. If she hadn’t come here, she would never have met Regina. 

What a disturbing thought, really. Meeting the Phantom of the Opera had changed her life. She wasn’t as afraid of using her voice as she once had been. And she knew what her voice was capable of. Knew what it could do. And what it felt like when she succeeded.... 

Emma’s thoughts trailed off as she once again thought back to last night and how breathless she had felt. For more reasons than one. Something had awakened inside her last night. Something she couldn’t just force to go back to sleep. Now that it was awake, it refused to disappear. And honestly, Emma did not want it to go away. She wanted to feel what she had felt last night. Euphoric. Breathless. Certain muscles pulling taut and then relaxing. Like a bubble bursting. She shifted on the edge of the bed. Uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again. She was winding herself up. Getting distracted. And thinking about Regina. And the nightgown she had worn last night. That black lace thing. Why did Regina always walk around like that? Maybe she simply didn’t care. Emma admired her for that. Imagine having that kind of confidence. But she supposed it was easy to have that kind of confidence when ones body looked like that...

Emma squeezed her eyes shut and scolded herself. She was not supposed to think about Regina’s body! 

There was a shuffling sound behind the mirror. One that immediately made every other thought in Emma’s head disappear. She looked up towards the mirror and was surprised to see her reflection disappear all the sudden. It was like an effect in a movie. Emma blinked, but the effect did not disappear, and instead of looking at herself, Emma was now looking at Regina instead. She was standing in the mirror shaped opening, and Emma realized that this only looked like a movie effect because she wasn’t used to seeing the mirror being pushed back from the inside, so to speak. 

“Boo,” Regina said completely dryly.

“H-hi,” Emma squeaked. “What are you doing here?” 

Regina raised one visible eyebrow and squinted behind the mask. 

“Sorry,” Emma amended. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” 

“Right,” Regina scoffed. “Well, I didn’t have time to wait for you to show up. I have other things to attend to than telling you a story.”

“You have?” What are you gonna do?” Emma asked curiously. 

Exactly as expected, Regina did not answer. She remained completely silent as she stood there in her black dress and black cloak that seemed to shimmer slightly. Her dark hair was pulled back in a half-updo that made it fall over one shoulder. Emma noted that she was also wearing black gloves tonight. Thin, black gloves made of lace. Emma wasn’t completely sure why Regina was wearing them, but they looked nice on her. They suited her hands. Suited her long fingers. Those fingers that had been splayed wide over Emma’s collarbone last night......

Knock-knock-knock! 

For the second time that day, Emma jumped a little when someone knocked on her door. Regina did not. She still remained completely unphased. Later, Emma would wonder about that, but for now, she just settled for congratulating herself with having locked the door. 

“Yes?” she called. 

“It’s me,” Lily called back. “I was wondering if you’d like to come and hang out in my room?”

Regina chuckled very, very quietly, and Emma flashed her a panicked look. She had to be quiet!

“Not tonight,” Emma called back. “I have a headache, so I think I’m just gonna go to bed!”

“Fair enough. See ya tomorrow!”

“Yep. See you!”

With that, Lily disappeared. Emma heard her footsteps down the hallway, and she acknowledged that this was getting dangerous. 

But Regina was still as unfazed as ever. She even smiled a little as though she found the whole situation to be amusing. And then she did the completely surprising thing. She extended one glove clad hand out towards Emma. 

Emma blinked in surprise as she slowly got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror. 

Regina was still standing with one hand extended out, and her voice was full of dry amusement when she said: “I am your Angel of Music, come to me, Angel of Music...”

Dry humor or not, those words worked like a spell. Without thinking any further about it, Emma put her hand in the clove clad one Regina was extending out towards her. Long fingers locked around hers, and then Emma was pulled through the mirror. Regina did not bother to close the mirror behind her. She simply turned around and began walking. She had not let go of Emma’s hand. 

Emma was not about to point that out. She didn’t want to say something that potentially could make Regina let go of her hand. So she kept her mouth shut and followed the Phantom of the Opera down the secret passageway. 

Regina was absentmindedly humming to herself as they went. Emma recognized the melody and was inspired to sing. “’And do I dream again? For now I find.... The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind...’”

Regina chuckled dryly. “Very good, Little Swan. Keep singing.”

And so that was exactly what Emma did. Not in the same loud manner she had last night, but softly and gently. It matched the atmosphere in the darkened passageway. And tonight it was REALLY dark.   
Emma had forgotten her torch, but it didn’t matter. Because Regina was here. She was guiding her through the darkness. It was impossible to feel afraid when Regina was here with her. 

“What kind of story is it that you want to tell me?” Emma asked and stopped singing for a moment. 

“If you keep asking me, I will tell you nothing at all,” Regina brushed her off. 

“Sorry.”

“How is the voice doing after last night?” Regina asked, completely overhearing Emma’s apology. “You do sound a little breathy.”

“My throat is a little sore, but it’s not that bad,” Emma lied. Her throat was actually quite sore. 

Regina muttered something incoherent. Something that suggested that she knew Emma was lying. “And how is... the rest of you doing?” she asked silkily. “You did immerse yourself quite... thoroughly in the music last night.”

So Regina definitely knew. Emma blushed and was glad Regina couldn’t see it in the darkness. Now it was her turn to mumble something incoherent....

They reached the lair. Emma silently mourned that Regina had let go of her hand now, but only for a moment. It didn’t take long before she was distracted by something. The fact that Regina’s throne was open. Literally. The seat had turned into a lid. An open lid. Before she could stop herself, Emma walked over there and took a closer look at it. There was a hole in the throne. A big hole. Big enough for   
Emma to squeeze through. And big enough for Regina to squeeze through. Emma frowned. It was impossible to see what was on the bottom. The big, black hole revealed nothing. 

And before Emma could get the chance to ask about it, the lid was slammed shut harshly. The throne looked like a throne again, and Emma looked up at Regina. “What’s down there?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Monsters,” Regina drawled. “Terribly, wicked monsters who particularly enjoys the taste of blondes...”

Emma’s cheeks flamed. “You could just have said that it is none of my business.”

“I could,” Regina agreed and chuckled darkly. “But what would be the fun in that? I have so few things to laugh at down here. Now take off that silly backpack and sit down.”

“Are you not hungry?” Emma asked. “I’ve got plenty of-“

“No. I have a headache. I’ll eat later,” Regina said shortly. “Sit down, Little Swan.”

Emma took off the backpack and then obediently sat down as instructed. Regina did not take off her cloak or gloves. There was a slight drawl to her tone as she said: “Now, before I start the story... You’re going to do something for me.”

“Alright. Anything.”

That only seemed to amuse Regina further. “You’re going to keep your pretty little mouth shut while I talk. If you interrupt me, I’ll stop the story immediately, and I will not tell you anymore of it. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Emma immediately said. “I promise I won’t interrupt you.”

“No matter what I tell you?”

“No matter what you tell me,” Emma confirmed and felt the curiosity prickle inside her. What could this story possibly be about? Emma could honestly say that she had absolutely no idea. Regina was so unpredictable. Sometimes she was gentle, other times she was snappy. Emma couldn’t completely garner what version of the Phantom of the Opera she was with tonight. 

“Well then...” to Emma’s surprise, Regina sat down across her. She elegantly folded her long legs and brushed a hand over her shimmering cloak. Undoubtedly another stolen item. Emma wondered how on earth no one noticed that items were disappearing from the costume department. Surely, Malena or another of the teachers would have picked up on it, right? 

“Once upon a time,” Regina said dryly as she without further ado began the tale. “There lived a beautiful, young woman in Paris. A beautiful young woman who loved to sing-“ she paused and fiddled with a lock of her hair. 

And Emma realized that the promise she had made to Regina would be a tough one to keep. She already wanted to ask Regina a question. Whether the beautiful young woman had been her.

“The young woman was quite talented at singing,” Regina continued. “So talented, she once in a while gave concerts at the Opera Garnier. During her fifth concert, she noticed that a handsome man was watching her from the first row. He kept looking at her as she sang, but he did not come to find her afterwards, so the beautiful young woman thought that he would not come back again. But he did. During her sixth concert, and then the seventh. They never said a word to one another. He just watched as she sang. And the woman realized that she could not stop looking at him either. During her eight and nine concert, he was all she saw, and finally, after her tenth concert, the handsome man showed up at her dressing room...” 

The questions were burning on Emma’s tongue. Was the beautiful young woman Regina? And if so, who was the man? God, why had she promised to keep her mouth shut during this?!

“The handsome man invited the beautiful young woman out for dinner,” Regina continued, voice dry as though what she was saying wasn’t particularly interesting. “And of course the young woman said yes. The man was very handsome, and she had spent so long looking at him. How was she supposed to resist?” she chuckled darkly. “It did not take long before the handsome man and the beautiful woman became an item. He would always leave a bouquet of red roses in her dressing room after each performance, and he never missed a concert. The young woman was deeply in love with this handsome man who spoke French with an accent and had a true passion for music. They were quite compatible, everyone said so. All the young woman’s friends envied her for having gotten such a wonderful, handsome, compassionate man...” Regina scoffed and rolled her dark eyes. “Not long after the couple started courting, the handsome man proposed to the beautiful woman. And of course she said yes. He gifted her with a lavish engagement ring with a huge diamond, and the woman could not have been more pleased. She adored her fiancé and he worshipped the ground she walked on. They were soulmates in every regard. Tied together in their shared love for music. And they made a lovely couple indeed. Him tall and handsome and distinguished, her as pretty as a doll with her darker complexion and graceful nature.”

Emma shifted. Was Regina describing herself? Was this story about her? If only she had been allowed to ask!

“As you can imagine, their wedding was splendid,” Regina continued. “Truly splendid. Lavish and exquisite. All of their friends and family was present. The groom was wearing a tailored suit and the bride was in a lace gown so expensive most of the guests were envious. There were rumors that the groom had sold one of his many cars so he could give his bride whatever she wanted. You see, she was his queen. His angel. That’s what he told her in the speech. After the wedding, the happy couple moved into a big apartment right in the heart of Paris. They were very, very happy. The wife, who originally came from poverty, surely felt as though she had gotten everything she could possibly wish for. A handsome, rich husband who adored her. You see, she was a vain woman when it came to it. Appearance mattered to her. And the husband... Well, he doted on his new, doll-like wife. He was a vain man as well. He saw beauty as one of the greatest assets in this world. A beautiful face could open so many doors. And his wife happened to be very, very beautiful. Whatever she wanted, she should have. He was there to respond to her every summon... Make her every wish come true.” Regina brushed a lock of hair away from her face and then lightly touched the white half-mask on her face. 

Emma shifted again. It was getting really hard to keep her mouth shut. But she knew that she had to. Otherwise Regina would stop the story. And Emma definitely did not want that! She was so enthralled by this tale, she simply HAD to hear the rest!

“But the wife had one wish the husband couldn’t fulfill simply by waving his wallet,” Regina continued. “The wife desperately wanted a child. More than anything, she wished to give her husband a child. She longed to become pregnant with his baby. Their little family was unfulfilled until a child would come. They both felt that way. But getting pregnant was not easy for the young wife. Although she was healthy, she lost three babies early in the pregnancy...” 

Emma’s breath hitched. If this truly was Regina’s story, it was almost too much. Loosing three babies... That was terrible. Emma couldn’t imagine how awful that must have been.

“But then at last, two years after having married, the young wife finally carried a baby past the twelve week mark. She and her husband grew optimistic. Carefully, at first, but as her belly grew, she and husband forgot their worries and started to prepare the arrival of their first child. Of course the husband made sure that his wife was seen by the finest doctors in Paris. All experts paid to monitor her growing belly closely. The couple grew even closer and more affectionate during her pregnancy. And the husband decided that an apartment wasn’t a good place to grow up for a child. A child needed space. So he surprised his wife with a country house in Provence. There was plenty of open fields and lots of space there. Plenty spacious for a young boy to tumble around and play. You see, the couple wanted a boy more than anything else. The husband was old fashioned and had always felt that sons had greater value than daughters, and the wife felt the same. She wanted to give her husband a son. And she was sure she was having just that. So was the husband, and the baby’s nursery was painted three different shades of blue. Blue baby clothes was bought, and they even decided on a name for their son. Erik.”

Now Emma could barely keep her mouth shut. Erik. She had heard that name before! That was what Regina had been upset about last night. Was... Was Erik her SON?! Emma felt completely dizzy. 

“The time came where the wife was due to deliver, and she was taken to the finest hospital in Paris. The birth was agonizing. Truly agonizing. The husband was by her side all the time. He bathed her forehead. Fed her ice chips and encouraged her when she said she couldn’t do it. Thirty six hours after having gone into labor, the wife gave birth. Not to the son she and her husband so desperately had wished for, but to a daughter. The couple was disappointed, but as the doctor wiped the baby, they agreed that they could try again. They would have a son the next time. But then everything changed when the baby was given to the wife. Upon seeing her daughter’s face, the wife screamed. For it was not the face of a baby. One half of it so horribly distorted. The face of a monster. The face of the devil’s child. The wife handed the baby back to the doctor and said that this couldn’t be. How could two beautiful people make something so horrendously ugly as that thing?”

Emma blinked and tears spilled onto her cheeks. Yes, this was Regina’s story. But Regina was not the wife. 

“The husband was not less shocked,” Regina continued, voice dry and uninterested. “But he did a better job at hiding it, I believe. He patted his wife’s cheek and told her not to worry. He would find the world’s best plastic surgery and have the baby operated before her bones hardened. But the doctor told him that it would be impossible to do anything about that type of disfigurement. It was too severe. Too extensive. The risk of doing more harm than good was too big. The wife cried, but this time the husband did nothing to calm her. She had to be sedated, and once she was fast asleep... The husband quietly slipped out of the door. He did not return the next day or the next. The wife had to take her newborn daughter back to their large country house on her own. She hoped to find her husband there. But instead she was greeted by a half-empty closet, a missing suitcase, and a wedding ring left abandoned on the table. He never came back, and the wife never saw her beloved husband again. The loss drove her mad, and it was easy to place the blame on one person. Her newborn daughter. Her ugly face was the reason why the husband had left. If she had been beautiful, or better still, had been a son, the husband would never have abandoned her. The husband would have accepted the disfigured face had his daughter been a son instead. The wife couldn’t stand looking at her daughter’s horrible face, so she tore up a white cloth and tied it around the right side of her daughter’s face...” Regina interrupted herself and said sarcastically: “a mask. My first unfeeling scrap of clothing. Covering the face was more important than actual clothing....” she shook her head, slipped back into using the monotone voice she had used the entire time. “Now the disfigurement was hidden, but that wasn’t enough for the wife. The child was still a girl. Still the opposite of what she had wanted to give her husband. So she started dressing her daughter in the blue baby clothes she and her husband had bought. And when her daughter grew, she cut her curls and kept her hair short. She refused to acknowledge that her child was anything but a boy. In the wife’s mind, this was her son. The son she had been waiting for for such a long time. She even called him by the name she and her husband had chosen. Erik.” 

Emma swallowed thickly. What Regina was telling her was awful. Truly awful. Heart wrenching. The worst thing imaginable. A father who left and a mother who grew insane. 

Regina smiled sinisterly, but her dark eyes remained emotionless. “You’ve been so interested in knowing who I am,” she said dully. “Now you know. I am Erik. For the first six years of my life, that was all I was. Erik. The perfect son that never existed. The perfect son who died when I was born....” 

To Be Continued..........


	27. The Devil's Child

Regina stopped talking and seemingly from out of nowhere brought out a bottle of something. The bottle was too small to be a wine bottle, and Emma wondered what was inside it. Regina took a large swig of whatever liquid was inside the bottle and then licked her lips. That distracted Emma for a split second. It distracted her a lot actually. But she refused to let that part of herself take over. She was still much too interested in knowing more. Her mind was reeling after the brutal story Regina had just told her. A father who had left the moment he saw her, and a mother who had refused to give up on the illusion she and her husband had created. 

Regina’s dark eyes stared aimlessly at one of the walls in the lair. It was obvious that she was not seeing anything. She looked like she was miles away. Perhaps she had travelled back several years. Back to the time where she was a child. After a moment, she lifted the bottle again and took a swig, and Emma saw the faintest glimpse of an amber liquid on Regina’s lip before she licked it away with the tip of her tongue. “What happened next?” Emma asked because she could not control her curiosity a minute longer. 

Regina blinked and her dark eyes re-focused on Emma. “What did I tell you about interrupting me?” 

“But you’re not talking anymore,” Emma pointed out, wondering why she was so gutsy all the sudden. She was challenging the Phantom of The Opera. Surely, that was a dangerous thing to do. 

But to her surprise, Regina merely barked out a laugh and there was an amused twinkle in her eyes now. “You’re a little brat,” she said and swirled whatever was in the bottle lightly. “An absolute little brat who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.” 

Those could have been very, very harsh words. But Regina still looked amused, and her eyes were twinkling. Emma had a feeling that she was not about to get herself kicked out of the lair. Thank god. 

“Erik and his mother lived in the big house in Provence,” Regina said, without further ado picking up where she left off. “She kept to herself. Did not want anyone to see the horror she had brought into this world. I suppose the shame was too much to bear.”

Emma opened her mouth and then closed it again. She was NOT supposed to interrupt. No matter how much she wanted to. 

“The once glorious house soon became a dilapidated ruin where the curtains always were drawn, and no light was ever let in. She would use newspaper to cover the windows to ensure that no one could look in, and better still, that Erik could not look out. She couldn’t risk anyone getting a glimpse of me.” Regina murmured. “The house reeked of sickness. Though not the kind of sickness that is physical.   
But the kind of sickness that comes from within. The mother-“ she took a break and barked out a shorter laugh. One that was less kind. “MY mother was not a kind woman, Little Swan. She was brutal. And sick. So very, very sick. Envious of her old life and what she was left with. My first memory is of her being dissatisfied with me. I’ve seen pictures of her. She was a beautiful woman. But the woman I grew up with was the opposite of that. Her mouth was always twisted, the skin between her eyes wrinkled, and her nose scrunched up. Sometimes it was like she was the one who was wearing a mask and not me. A mask of anger and hatred towards me. I started to grow. My mother kept my hair short and dressed me in boy clothes that soon grew dirty because she refused to wash it or buy new clothes. We couldn’t afford that, she said. The trauma over bringing me into this world-“ another unamused snort. “Had cost her her voice, and as you can imagine, that only fueled her anger and hatred towards me. I had taken everything from her. Her husband. Her dreams. Her voice. And her wealth. She traded her singing career for a job in a small boutique that sold hats to wealthy women who did not need them. 

One of my earliest memories is of me being pushed into a little cupboard in the back of the store where I was to stay quiet until she was done working for the day. You see, I was much too young to stay home alone.” Regina took another swig of the bottle, and Emma reminded herself to stay quiet while Regina told her story. If she interrupted, Regina would throw her out of the lair.

“When I was quite young, I’m not sure how young, but most likely around four or five, I made a fatal mistake,” Regina said dully. “My mother had left me unattended for a moment, and the scrap of clothing I was wearing around my head started to itch. So I took it off. And looked at myself in the mirror. And screamed at what I saw. This was the first time I saw myself without the piece of clothing tied around my head, and when my mother heard the screams she came into the room. I wanted her to comfort me because I was afraid of the creature in the mirror-“ Regina scoffed. “But she did not come to comfort me. Instead she hit me. Shook me. And screamed that I was never to take off the piece of clothing again. If I did, she would put me in the closet and not let me out until I had learned my lesson. 

That same day, she made me a new mask. One that looked quite like this one.” Regina reached up and touched the white-half mask that covered the right side of her face. “She put it on me, tied it tightly at the back of my head and told me to never take it off again. She didn’t need to order me, though. I did not yet know how to untie the knot she had made. So the mask stayed on. You would think that would make her a little happier, but it did not. She still resented me for what I was. I was a constant reminder of all the things she had lost, and she never missed an opportunity to tell me that. But in the same breath, she also let me know that she was everything I had. No one else would take me. No orphanage would ever let a creature like me near the other children. No family would ever as much as THINK of welcoming me into their home. She made it sound like she was my god and savior, and of course I believed her. I believed that she was doing me a favor by letting me live under her roof. And I believed that I should be grateful no matter how she treated me.” 

Emma bit the inside of her cheek harshly. Now she didn’t just feel sad about Regina’s story. She felt angry. Very, very angry. 

“Erik grew,” Regina relentlessly continued, completely ignoring Emma’s growing anger. “And he was a very well behaved child. Always trying his best to please his mother but never quite being able to do so no matter what he said or did. He discovered that what worked best was if he simply stayed quiet. You see, his mother was often tired when she came home after a long day of work. Cooking and cleaning was much too strenuous for her, so dinner was often a slice of toast. But Erik never complained. Because it was his fault that his mother couldn’t work more than she did. It was his fault that they didn’t have any money. His fault that his father had left. It was his fault that his mother had lost her beautiful voice. Everything was Erik’s fault. He was exhausting her. He was such a difficult child. By the time he turned... what? Six perhaps, Erik’s mother developed a new habit. Drinking an entire bottle of wine and then falling asleep. She liked listening to music on the big, rusty gramophone. Claimed that was the only sound she could handle. And Erik...” Regina sucked in her cheeks. “Well, he enjoyed the music too. In fact he enjoyed it more than he had enjoyed anything else.”

Emma thought to herself that this was painful to listen to. Regina kept switching to talking about herself in first person and to third person. Like Erik was not a part of her and still was. It was heart-wrenching.

“One night when Mother as usually had fallen asleep after drinking too much,” Regina said and toyed with the neck of the bottle. “The vinyl on the record player was still playing. Regina Resnik was singing ‘Afraid, am I afraid’ from ‘The Medium’, and her voice sparked something inside Erik. He thought to himself that perhaps if he had been a girl like Regina, his mother would have liked him better. And if he could sing like Regina... Well then perhaps, his mother would treat him differently. So while his mother slept, he sang. Not as good as Regina Resnik, but his voice was alive and filling more than his little body and mind ever could have. He sang louder than Regina Resnik, and it woke his mother. She looked at him. Just looked at him. Her face was pale and her eyes wide. But for the first time, she did not tell Erik to be quiet. So he kept singing. His mother did not smile or tell him that he was good, but she listened. For the first time in his life, Erik had his mother’s undivided attention, and he kept singing until Regina Resnik went quiet. His mother said nothing. She simply went back to sleep. Very suddenly. It wasn’t until later that Erik understood that he could make people fall asleep with his voice...” 

Regina smiled sinisterly. “But he did understand something. That his mother wasn’t unkind to Regina. While he had sung as Regina, she hadn’t said a crass word to him. Not one. And of course he eyed a possibility to finally get his mother to like him. But it didn’t quite go as planned. Because now Mother started demanding that Erik sang whenever she wanted him to. Erik did not want to upset his mother, so of course he did what she asked. On one condition. Mother was to call him ‘Regina’ and say ‘she’ whenever he sang. Otherwise he would not. He always sang the words to her instead of saying them, because Mother could not say no when Regina sang. She was spellbound. Almost at peace when Regina sang. The world was a beautiful place then. The bad things disappeared when Regina sang, but the moment she stopped, Mother always fell asleep. When she woke, she pretended that she could not remember seeing Regina the night before. But she would always ask for her again.” Regina smiled once more. “I learned from a young age to weaponized my voice. Denying my mother was unpleasant at best but it also gave me a certain thrill. I found a way to push back and fight against her. There were nights where I simply refused to sing. She would hit me, yes indeed, but afterwards she would also burst into tears. She hated me with all her heart, but she loved my voice. Was addicted to it. Needed it in order to soothe her tormented soul. My voice was a drug to her, and when she did not get her fix, it made her ill. But I believed she feared my voice too. She feared what I could make her do with it. That it did not take more for me than singing in order to subdue her. Make her feel weak. Mother hated feeling weak. I’m afraid we share that trait. By the time I was eight, I enjoyed making her beg to hear me sing. I demanded to hear one little word from her. ‘Please’. Mother was stubborn. She did not like to beg for anything. So she would use the only method she knew. Physical force. She hit me. But I was always the one who won. She said ‘please’, and I sang. She fell asleep and I had a moment of peace. I was free to roam around the house. Mother never wanted me to go upstairs where she had her bedroom. She preferred keeping me downstairs in my own room with the bolt on the door and no windows.”

Emma squirmed. God, this was terrible! Absolutely terrible! She opened her mouth to speak, but Regina glared at her in warning. “What did I tell you about interrupting me, little brat?” again, the words could have been terribly unkind, but she smiled a little. “Interrupt while I’m talking, and I’ll throw you out of my lair.” 

Emma gulped and nodded mutely. 

“I started wearing Mother’s clothes when she slept,” Regina continued and laughed unamused. “In my childlike mind, I saw that as a small revenge. Wearing her clothes and thereby defiling it. It was my private joke. Seeing her wear some of the items I had worn previously and be amused because she had no idea. The little things and all that.” She chuckled again. “Once I discovered that I could send Mother off to dreamland by singing to her, my life got a little easier. She slept and I wore her clothes. More and more often. I started being less subtle about it. I started leaving her clothes here and there. She would punish me for it. Sometimes she would lock her closet, but I was very skilled when it came to picking locks.” Regina shrugged. “And I started making other demands too. I wanted to wear her clothes whenever I sang. At first, she refused, but I was very.... convincing. I sang as beautifully as I possibly could and let her know that I wouldn’t do it again if I wasn’t allowed to wear her clothes. So she let me. Meaning that she would give me her oldest and ugliest dress to wear. Faded and colorless and enormous because she had worn it during her pregnancy. But I didn’t care. It was still a dress. I wore it all the time. I looked hideous.” Regina shook her head a little. “I was starting to grow a little bit taller and my hair had started growing too. I had started to refuse the scissors when Mother wanted to cut my hair. I wanted to be Regina all the time. Regina was strong and powerful, and Erik was a lost little boy who lived to be invisible and do his mother’s bidding. I didn’t want to be invisible anymore. Mother and I argued. She threw the scissors at me-“

Emma gasped audibly. 

“-But I had grown quite accustomed to knowing when to duck,” Regina relentlessly continued and shrugged slightly. “I told her that I wanted to be Regina all the time. Not Erik. When she ignored me, I started taunting her. I said ‘Erik is dead’ over and over again. She was not happy about that. I was thrown into the room with no windows, but that didn’t stop me. I kept yelling that Erik was dead all through the night. My mother ignored me all through the night, but the following morning she let me out with the words ‘out you go, Regina’. That’s how I knew that I had won. She never tried to cut my hair again. She didn’t force me to wear Erik’s old clothes. She didn’t buy me new clothes either, but I was quite quick on my fingers. And good with a needle too. I turned Erik’s old trousers into skirts and dresses. The clothes weren’t pretty to say the least, but it was feminine. That was all I needed. For the first time in my miserable existence, I felt a sliver of happiness. Although Mother still resented me and had a bottle of wine before bedtime every night, I started to find myself. Over the next year, my hair grew long and longer, and every time I saw a woman on television, I compared myself to them. I so wished that I looked like them. One night when I thought Mother slept, I said it out loud, and she scoffed and said that I would never be half as beautiful as any of those women. I asked her if it was because I was a boy, but she said: “no. It’s because you are a hideous girl, Regina.” That’s how I found out the truth. That I always had been a girl. That Erik never had existed. I was furious. I screamed, but Mother only laughed at me. Taunted me. Told me that it did not matter whether I went by Erik or Regina. I would never be beautiful or fit in no matter what. I willingly ran to the room with no windows and stayed there for the rest of the night...” Regina paused her story to reach for the bottle. She took a deep swig of the liquid. 

Emma wiped stray tears away from her cheeks. Her stomach was cramping from the impact of Regina’s words. Her story was darker than Emma possibly could have imagined. 

“How old was I when everything changed?” Regina mused out loud. “To tell you the truth, I am not certain. Perhaps ten or eleven. Perhaps a bit younger. Mother and I had been in this screwed up routine for as long as I could remember. She shoved me into the room with no windows and the heavy bolt on the door when she went to work. Let me out when she came home. But I had grown tired of staying in that room all day. One day I decided that I’d had enough, and I started kicking at the door. So hard that the wood caved in. I was free and I was ecstatic. I had never been free to roam in the house when she was not home. The first thing I did was going outside. Which was something she had forbidden me to do. When I was younger, she would take me outside sometimes. One round through our garden. She would always hold my arm too tightly to make sure that I didn’t try and run off. When I grew older, she stopped trusting me. And stopped taking me outside. When I stepped outside that day, I hadn’t been out of the house for YEARS, Little Swan. Can you imagine that?”

No. Emma could not.

“When Mother came home and found the door broken, she was of course furious,” Regina said nonchalantly. “She punished me thoroughly and swore that she would replace the door, but the thing is... We didn’t have much money. Certainly not enough to replace the door. So it never was. I was still brought symbolically into the room, though. She forced me to promise that I would stay in there while she was gone. Otherwise she would give me a beating.” Regina chuckled and shook her dark head. “Of course that did not make me stay inside the room. I went outside and made sure she knew exactly where I had been. Sometimes I had been laying in her bed. Playing with her old jewelry. I started using the old piano we had in our house. It was no grand piano. Not any longer, but I still managed to coax tones out of it. The piano and I understood one another. It answered when I spoke to it-“ Regina scoffed. “I don’t expect you to understand, Little Swan.”

But somehow, Emma did. She understood exactly what Regina meant.

“Mother punished me for it when she got home, I took the punishment, and the next day history repeated itself. I went outside, I sat by the piano. Played and composed and left my notes all over it to let her know I had been there. Took a beating for it and so on. I enjoyed having free rein over the house, and I started lighting candles to have some light. The electricity was regularly shut off in our house, and I enjoyed the way the candles flickered. It made me feel like I was in one of those old movies Mother sometimes watched. Candles, pen, paper and the old piano. I did not require anything else. As long as I was left alone and could compose music without interruptions, I was happy. But of course I didn’t have the luxury of being left alone. Mother hated when I played the piano. Hated and loved it. My father was an avid piano player, and seeing me play reminded me of him. The man she had lost because of me, she said. She also hated when I composed music. There was a night where she suddenly ripped the papers from my hands and threw them into our fireplace whilst sneering that I should not be allowed to make music. Music was beautiful. Creatures like me should not be allowed anywhere near it. I would defile it, she said. Defile it with my ugliness. In hindsight, she was most likely afraid of hearing me sing the songs I wrote, but at the time I was livid that she had destroyed my music. I wanted revenge. So the next time she went out, I roamed about the house as always. I came across the old ring my father had given her when he proposed. I hid it. She realized it was missing and confronted me. I refused to tell her no matter how hard she hit me. Where she could abuse me physically, I could torture her mentally. That was my revenge.”   
Regina paused and looked at Emma. “So pale,” she murmured and outstretched a long finger. For a moment it looked like she was about to hook it under Emma’s chin. Emma wished that she would. But to her disappointment, Regina did not. Instead she let her hand fall. “Tell me, Little Swan... Are you scared of me?”

Emma shook her head. No, she was not afraid of Regina. She was afraid of her mother. 

A smiled twisted The Phantom of The Opera’s lips slightly. “Perhaps you will be when I’ve told you the rest.” She reached for the bottle and took another swig of the liquid. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and then continued her story: “About six months after the ring incident, the unlikely happened. Mother gained a friend. A FRIEND. Mother wasn’t one for making friends. Ever. She kept to herself, terrified at the idea that someone should discover her shameful secret. Me. But now she was on the phone with this woman she had met on her job. She was talking and laughing and speaking so kindly to this woman, and I was furious. Mother had never allowed me to go to school and meet other children. She claimed that no one would want to be friends with me, and that she was doing me a favor by keeping me inside all the time. And here she was, making a friend. Louise, she was called. Louise Bernard. She was working at the store with Mother, and the more Mother talked to her, the more furious I got. She started going out at night too. To have dinner with her new friend. I asked her if I could come, but she slapped me and snapped that I shouldn’t be so foolish. Of course I could not come.   
Louise did not know that she had a child. Mother hadn’t told her. In hindsight, I doubt that Mother told ANYONE about me. But at the time, this was the ultimate betrayal. Mother spent so much time interacting with this woman, and she hadn’t even told her about me. I was enraged. And I wanted revenge.” Regina’s expression changed. “It really was not difficult at all, Little Swan.” Her gaze became unfocused as she looked at the wall without seeing anything. “Mother had a particular day where she liked driving to Lyon to go shopping. Or perhaps dream of the things she could not afford. Either way, I noticed that she on this particular day had forgotten her phone at home. I picked it up and found Louise Bernard’s number. That was not difficult. Mother did not have many contacts in her phone. I called her. Disguised my voice to make it sound like Mother’s. I had- and have- a certain talent for imitating voices. Louise immediately believed that she was in fact talking to Mother. She was very pleasant. The most pleasant conversation I’d ever had, and I almost felt bad for doing what I was about to. But then I thought of Mother and how unfair it was that she got to have a friend when I was not allowed to have anyone. I wanted to hurt her like she had hurt me. So I carried on with the plan. I invited Louise Bernard over. I told her that I had cancelled my trip to Lyon. She bought it. And she was very happy to be asked to come over. I believe she was curious to see how Mother lived because she had never been to her house before.” Regina brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “While I waited for her to arrive, I went upstairs to Mother’s bedroom to prepare. I tore the sleeve off my dress to make it seem like a rag. I mussed up my hair. Used some of Mother’s makeup to make my face seem dirty. When Louise Bernard arrived, I used Mother’s voice again. I told her to go into the living room and wait for me. I would be right there. I could hear her walk around in the house. We had a whole conversation. It was quite pleasant, really. But still not enough to make me deter from my plan. When I could hear that Louise Bernard was seated in the living room, I went downstairs. She still thought that I was Mother, so she kept talking to me. But I did not answer her this time, and I could hear that she was growing wearily of the situation. Which was exactly what I wanted...”

Emma shifted a bit and discreetly wiped her sweaty palm on her thigh.   
“When I was standing right by the door to the living room, I took off my mask,” Regina called, and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. But whether it was from amusement or guilty conscience remained unclear. “Then I laid down on my stomach and used my arms to pull myself forward. Louise screamed in horror when I came crawling into the living room, groaning and spitting and babbling incoherently like a creature from the black lagoon. I was slightly theatrical back then. I made myself seem worse than I actually was. Pretended to be unable to walk or talk. But my face was quite real, and of course that was what scared Louise the most. I believe her intention was to run for her life, but I made her unable to.”

“How?” Emma asked before she could stop herself. Then she realized her mistake and clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry!”

Regina lifted a long finger and pointed to the opening in the lair. 

“I’m sorry!” Emma said again. “Please don’t kick me out. I won’t interrupt again, I promise!”

“Promises,” Regina scoffed. “They mean so little. Interrupt me one more time and I WILL kick you out, Little Swan. Understood?” 

A test. Emma settled for a nod. 

Regina flashed her a wicked grin. “Clever girl. You want to know how I made Louise stay? I sang for her. I hypnotized her. It was quite simple. She was a willing victim. I sang what I wanted her to do. Which was telling Mother that the two of them could not be friends anymore. I gave her strict instructions on what to tell Mother if she asked for the reason. Louise was to tell her a single word. Just one. Can you   
guess which one, Little Swan?”

Mutely, Emma shook her head. 

“Erik,” Regina said silkily. “One simple word with so much meaning. Once sure Louise understood what she was to do, I sent her on her way with the warning that I would crawl in through her window should she ever return. I let her know that Erik would come for her if she came back. As I said, theatrical.” She laughed bitterly. “Now I realize how terribly unfair this all was to Louise. She was innocent. I regret what I did to her. But she became collateral damage in my war against Mother, and at the time all that mattered was that she was Mother’s friend. She was an enemy too.” The Phantom of the Opera paused for a moment and blinked. Traced her white half-mask with the tip of a finger. For a moment it looked like she had disappeared off to a place where Emma could not reach her, but then Regina lifted her chin and continued her tale. “It took Mother a while before she found out what I had done. She called Louise several times, but Louise never answered her, and I was delighted as Mother’s confusion grew. She did not understand why Louise suddenly was avoiding her. But the truth came out about a fortnight later where Mother succeeded in getting a hold of Louise at their job. I do not know exactly what Louise told Mother, but I suppose that she at some point must have said that one little word. Erik. Because Mother came home shrieking. I was upstairs in her bedroom, composing things that did not matter yet. I had lit candles. I was well into my own little world when Mother came barging in and demanded to know if Louise had been here. If I had seen her. I willingly confessed everything. I explained in detail what I had done to Louise and when Mother found out that I had unmasked... Well, she lost it as they say. She started screaming at me. Calling me the devil’s child. She was not pleased when I reminded her of who gave birth to me. She started hitting me, but I had finally had enough. And I hit back. For the first time in my life. I pushed her. Her back hit the table, and she knocked a candle over. The table was suddenly on fire. Then the floor. The fire spread quickly, and I realized that it was not Mother I had to fight to survive any longer. If I wanted to live, I had to get out of the house.” 

Emma waited with baited breath. Regina’s story sounded like something you read about in books. It was difficult to accept that it was real. That it had happened. To Regina. 

“Children are wonderfully loyal,” Regina sardonically continued and rolled her dark eyes. “Mother had caused me nothing but pain in my young, miserable life, but I still grabbed her hand so we could escape the fire together. Perhaps it was so deeply instilled in me that she truly was the only one I had. Perhaps her manipulation had worked. To this day, I am not certain why I took her hand, but instead of following me towards the stairs so we could get out of the house, Mother tried to pull me into the flames while screaming that ‘the devil’s child should die by fire’.

A gasp escaped Emma, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, but Regina did not seem to notice her outburst. Instead she continued the tale: “Perhaps she was right. Perhaps I was the devil’s child. But I certainly did not want to die that day. I was miserable, but dying in the flames with Mother’s screams roaring in my ears was not how I wanted to leave this earth. So I jumped.”

“J-jumped?” Emma whispered breathlessly.

“Yes, Little Swan. Jumped. Out of the window. And that’s the second time you’ve interrupted me. If it happens a third time, I’ll have to punish you.”

Emma blushed, but for reasons that had very little to do with fear. “Sorry. Go on. You jumped out of the window.”

“Mhmm. I did,” Regina said lazily. It was quite the tumble, and I landed very unfortunate. I twisted my ankle, but I was alive. I saw the fire taking hold at the house. I thought Mother was right behind me. I called out for her. Expected to see her come jumping out of the window, but as the seconds passed, I realized that she was not coming. Do I believe that she died in the fire? Yes, I do. Because she WANTED to die.” Regina tapped a finger against her mask. “And as for me.... I ran. As fast as my injured ankle could carry me. I had no one to turn to. No one knew that I even existed. Except for Louise Bernard. And if she was involved in the matter, I could easily imagine what conclusion she would reach. That the terrible creature she had laid eyes on, had started the fire. It was better to disappear entirely.” Regina abruptly stopped talking and reached for the bottle. She took another solid swig of the amber liquid. Then another. 

Emma wiped her clammy hands and took a deep breath. Had she been holding her breath the entire time? It certainly felt like it. It very much felt like it. Everything Regina had told her was making Emma completely dizzy and unbelievably sad. Regina had had a terrible childhood. Calling it a childhood didn’t even seem right. Instead of being met with love and affection from her mother, she had been with hatred and disdain. She had been abused and had suffered because of it. It was hard to truly blame Regina for any of the things she had done as a child. She had been so young. Those had been acts of desperation. Cries for attention. She had been desperate to get her mother’s love. Emma swallowed thickly and cleared her throat in an attempt to make the huge lump go away. 

After five solid swigs, Regina finally but the bottle down. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and scoffed at Emma. “NOW you may talk, Little Swan.”

“What happened next?” Emma asked immediately. 

“Many things,” Regina replied airily. “But that is not a story I am going to share with you now. I have already rattled your poor little self.”

That was true. Emma was most certainly rattled. But she couldn’t help herself. “But where did you go, though?” she asked. 

“What did I just tell you?!” Regina snapped. But then her expression softened a little. I went to Lyon. That’s the only thing I’m going to tell you. For now.”

Emma held her tongue. She was burning with curiosity to find out more, but she knew that she had to accept that Regina would not reveal anything else from her past tonight. 

The Phantom of the Opera looked good and thoroughly at Emma. Her mouth twisted a little as she asked: “are you afraid of me now, Little Swan? Now that you know who Erik is and what kind of fear he   
instilled in people? The games he played. The way he manipulated.”

“No,” Emma said quietly. “I am not afraid of you. Yes, you did some things, but you were just a child. A neglected child who needed attention. Of course you had to react in some kind of-” 

Regina scoffed and interrupted her. “What I did was the mindless actions of a neglected child, yes. but what if that child grew into a ruthless adult? Are you still not afraid then?”

“You are not ruthless,” Emma said immediately. She had experienced Regina being crass once in a while, but not ruthless. 

“Nadir Khan would disagree with you.”

“Who is Nadir Khan?” Emma asked curiously. 

“A man I once knew,” Regina said lightly. “And now question time is over with, Little Swan. It’s time for you to leave my lair.”

“Can I just ask you one more thing?” Emma begged. 

“One,” Regina warned. “Only one.” 

“Hypnotize people by singing,” Emma murmured. “Is that.... something you still do?”

Regina let out a dark laughter. “It is something I am still capable of doing if I want to. Is that answer enough for you, Little Swan?”

Yes. Yes, it was. Emma felt the skin at the back of her neck pull tight. But it was not out of fear. She thought back to the times where she hadn’t been able to look away as Regina sang. Had she been hypnotized then? 

“Now off you pop,” Regina hummed, lifting a long finger and pointing towards the opening in the lair again. 

This time, Emma rose from her spot on the ground, noting that her butt had started to go a bit numb, and strapped on her backpack again. Then she headed towards the underground passage. But before disappearing through it, she turned around and dared asking: “Regina?” 

“What did I tell you about asking me anymore questions?” Regina said. But her voice was not unkind. 

“Will you tell me the rest of your story?” Emma asked. There had to be more. Regina had been what, eleven when she ran off? What had she been doing in all those years? Surely, she hadn’t.... Emma bit her   
lip. Surely, Regina hadn’t been living down here ever since she was a little girl?! 

“Someday. When the time is right,” Regina replied. “Now let me ask YOU a question for a change, Little Swan.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Your parents...... Do they love you?” Regina murmured.

“I-“ Emma blinked in surprise. She had not expected this question. “Yes. Yes, they do. Very much.”

“Good,” Regina said plainly. “Now go.” 

“Okay,” Emma surrendered. “I’m going. Goodnight, Regina.”

“Goodnight, Little Swan.”

Emma left the lair with her head full of questions. How had eleven year old Regina managed in Lyon? What had she been doing there? How had she ended up in a lair below the Opera Garnier? Yes, Regina   
had revealed many things about her past tonight. But it would seem that it only had made even more question pop up in Emma’s head. She only knew half of it. And she certainly did not know how Regina had become The Phantom of the Opera....

To Be Continued.............

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus fact: Regina/Erik's ability to hypnotize people with her voice is 'stolen' from the novel called 'Phantom' written by Susan Kay. Daroga's name, Nadir Khan is from the same novel


	28. Heard As The Outcasts Hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Major trigger warning for mention and descriptions of self harm!! I cannot stress this out enough!!)

Needless to say that Emma had been quite affected when she came back to her room that night. She had cried to herself when she was in bed. Cried for Regina and the terrible childhood she’d had. No. That had not been a childhood. It had been torture upon torture. There had been no silver lining. It pained Emma to think of how scared and lonely Regina had been as a child. Scared and rejected and desperate for her mother’s love. Emma, who had never once doubted her parents’ love, had found it to be excruciatingly painful to think about. The hurt and abuse Regina had suffered at her mother’s hand. It was not difficult to understand why the scared little girl had created Regina. Her mother had lied to her. Had pretended that Regina was Erik. The son that never came. She had tried to hold onto an illusion, and in the process, she had hurt the one thing she should have kept safe from harm at all times. Her own child. Yes, Emma had cried that night. A long, long time. And she had fought the impulse to go back to the lair and apologize to Regina even though she was not to blame for what had happened to her. She just wanted to express her sympathy and tell Regina how grateful she was that she was alive. That she had not died in the fire that took her mother’s life. 

But what had happened after the fire? Once Emma finally had stopped crying, she had started to think about that instead. Regina had escaped the deathly flames by jumping out of the window, but then what had happened? She had gone to Lyon, that much she had told Emma, but what else? She had just been a child. How had a child survived on the streets? There were several answers to that question. 

Emma’s belief in all things good in the world made her hope that Regina had been taken in by a nice family. That she had been cared and provided for and loved until she reached adulthood and could get by on her own. But the way Regina was living her life now, in a dark lair under the Parisian opera, did not indicate that her childhood had become any better after she had escaped from the fire. 

There were several answers to how a child could get by on the streets, and Emma’s heart clenched when she thought about either of those answers. What more had Regina been through? What had she endured in order to survive? And how had she transformed from a scared child into the mysterious Phantom of the Opera who formed a friendship with Christie Daaé? Emma had learned many things tonight, but she also had several new questions. So many questions. She was desperate to hear the rest of Regina’s story, and she wished that she had pressed the issue a little bit. Perhaps she could have coaxed Regina into telling her a bit more. And perhaps not. No, she had to be patient. And wait until Regina was willing to tell her the rest of the story. Nothing good came from pushing The Phantom of the Opera. 

Emma curled up in bed and fell into a fitful sleep where she dreamed of old abandoned houses and a lonely child singing in the shadows. 

Two months crept by, and Emma continued to visit the lair every night. And every night, she returned to her room with her mind full of music and a heart that seemed to skip beats every so often after a lesson in which Regina taught her. 

Emma’s knowledge of music expanded. Her horizon broadened. She learned to look up at Regina and maintain eye contact when she sang instead of looking at the floor. She learned to use her body for singing. It was like Regina had said. You did not just use your voice for singing. You used your entire body. Your body was in instrument when it came to singing, and Emma learned to move with a newfound confidence as she sang. She learned to sing her way up to the highest point, hover there for a moment and then sing her way back down. She sustained. Without fainting. Or stumbling into Regina’s arms. Her head was filled with mysterious, tempting tones and melodies she didn’t even knew existed. And her feelings for Regina did not change. Her fascination with the Phantom of the Opera did not go away no matter what she did. Her heart swelled every time Regina rebuffed her or said something that could be considered rude, because it meant that she was giving Emma attention. Her dark eyes could so easily make Emma forget why she had even come to the lair in the first place. One look from Regina, and Emma’s knees transformed into jelly. Emma felt like a moth drawn to a flame. But Regina had not hypnotized her. Emma once carefully asked how it felt to be hypnotized, and Regina had scoffed and said that she had no idea. She had never been hypnotized before. But then she had grinned sinisterly and told Emma that IF she ever hypnotized her, Emma wouldn’t even be aware that she had been hypnotized. She wouldn’t realize. 

Perhaps Emma was crazy, but she had this intense curiosity inside her. A curiosity that made her wish that Regina WOULD hypnotize her. Just once. Just so Emma could see what it felt like. But of course she never told Regina that. Nor did she tell her about her feelings. God, she couldn’t! The thought alone made Emma feel nauseous. And the idea of Regina finding out was terrible. Regina would most likely laugh in her face. Or tell Emma to get the hell out of her lair. 

Regina did not tell Emma anything else about her past either. Emma had vowed to herself that she would stay patient and not push Regina for more knowledge, but Regina’s silence about her mysterious past really tested Emma’s willpower during those two months. She gave Emma music lessons in exchange for food and occasional showers. They talked about the upcoming concert for the parents. They talked about Emma’s day and lessons, but that was all. When it came to talking about her past, Regina was silent like the grave. And more than once, Emma’s imagination went into haywire because of it. 

At night, she often laid awake for hours and just speculated. Came up with a thousand different ways and reasons Regina had become the Phantom of the Opera. Sometimes she even dreamed about it too. To be perfectly honest, many of her dreams were about Regina now. About her voice. Her eyes. Her hands. More than once, Emma had woken up panting and disappointed in the middle of the night because the feeling of Regina’s hands on her body had been so real. Emma had WANTED it to be real....

That morning, Emma woke up with pillow marks all over her face. She had been sleeping very heavily that night. And dreamed dreams about a soft, melodic voice and long fingers splaying wide over her collarbone. Emma groaned a little as she rubbed her sore cheek. She couldn’t go on like this. These dreams embarrassed her. She’d never had dreams like these before. And they also frustrated her. Because Regina had not touched her like that since that night. And Emma wished that she would. But even more, she wished that she was bold enough to touch Regina. But she was afraid of Regina’s reaction. She was afraid that Regina would swat her hand away or even worse, laugh at her and once again make Emma feel like a stupid little girl. 

Emma sat up in bed and rubbed her cheek again. She would have to do something about those pillow marks before going downstairs for breakfast. And she had a feeling that she needed to do something about her hair as well. She could feel it sticking up in all directions. What had she been DOING while sleeping? She glanced at the sheet. It was all crumbled. So she had been tossing and turning in her sleep. Emma felt warmth rise in her cheeks. It couldn’t continue like this. She had to pull herself together and forgot all about that one, brief touch that had happened months ago. Really, it was not something to keep thinking about. It wasn’t like Regina had kissed her or anything-

Kissed. 

Emma bit the inside of her cheek harshly. Now there was something she most definitely should NOT think about. At all. Ever. Thinking about that was as forbidden as sneaking food out of the canteen. No, scratch that. It was more forbidden than that. 

Emma got out of bed and stretched her arms high above her head until there was a slight pop in her shoulders. They were all bunched up. She must have been straining in her sleep. But she did not wish to know the exact reason why she had been straining. She had enough memories about her dreams. And that was not something she wanted to think about either. 

Emma padded inside the bathroom to wash her face. She winced upon seeing her reflection in the mirror. There was indeed red pillow marks on her cheeks. Her hair was sticking up and her green eyes were a bit too wide for her face. In other words, she was a mess. And she could not go downstairs for breakfast looking like this. 

She started out with washing her face carefully. Twice. Then she brushed out her hair (which hurt) and tied it back in a braid. Her eyes were still wide. She couldn’t do anything about that until the dream had vaporized from her mind, but she looked at least a little bit more like herself now. 

With that taken care of, she went back to her room and opened the dresser to find her chorus dress, but before she could pull it out of the dresser, she heard a sound. 

Scratch-scratch-scratch. Scratch-scratch-scratch.

Emma’s shoulders only bunched for a moment before realizing that it was not the sound of a lost rat. Those scratching sounds coming from rats sounded completely different from this one. Emma could easily identify this one as well as the sound of a lost rat. 

“Good morning, Regina,” she softly greeted and felt a flutter of something warm in her belly. 

Scratch-scratch-scratch. Scratch-scratch-scratch. 

“Regina,” Emma half-chuckled, half-scolded. “Stop it. I know it’s you, okay?” 

The scratching sound stopped at once, and Emma chuckled again upon imagining the disgruntled look on Regina’s face. Scratching on the back of the mirror had been one of the Phantom’s way to entertain herself a month or so ago. She had done it to play a joke on Emma, but it hadn’t taken Emma long to figure out exactly who was making that scratching sound. She hadn’t even being scared. And Regina had been ever so disappointed at the little Swan’s lack of reaction. 

“Do you want to come in here for a little while?” Emma asked. In vain. She already knew the answer. 

“No,” came Regina’s voice through the mirror. 

Of course not. Emma bit back her irrational disappointment. Every time Regina scratched on the mirror, Emma asked her the same question. And the answer was always ‘no’. Unfortunately. Emma shook her head and snapped out of it. “Is there something I can do for you, then?”

In response, the mirror was opened two or three inches, and a book was pushed through the narrow opening. Emma crouched down and picked it up. It was Wuthering Heights. One of Emma’s favorites, and one she had been particularly excited about loaning to Regina. 

“Did you like it?” she asked. 

“I detested Catherine,” it came from behind the mirror. “She’s a very foolish girl.” 

Emma snickered. A typical Regina answer. 

“But apart from that, I quite enjoyed it,” Regina continued. “Not the worst book you’ve leant me.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Emma beamed. She loved loaning books to Regina, and even more hearing Regina’s opinion on said books. “Would you like to borrow another?”

Regina scoffed behind the mirror. “I suppose I still need something to fill out my day.”

Emma took that as a yes and went back to her little bookshelf. Crouched down in front of it and searched for a moment until she found what she was looking for. The beautiful, leather bound collection of fairy tales she had inherited from her grandmother Eva. With the book in hand she walked back to the mirror and crouched down. “Here you go,” she said as she carefully pushed the book through the slim opening between the mirror and the wall. 

The book disappeared, and it did not take long before Emma heard Regina go: “mm. Fairytales. How.... delightful.” 

“I think you’ll really enjoy them,” Emma defended. 

“Reading about how silly little girls blossomed because prince Charming turned and turned them into princesses? Hardly.” 

“Not all the stories are about princes rescuing the princess,” Emma protested. 

Regina scoffed once more, and Emma heard a page being turned in the book. “Snow White,” Regina read aloud from the introduction. “Was rescued by a prince. Cinderella. Was rescued by a prince as well. Rapunzel... suffered the same fate as the other two’s. Red Riding Hood.... Perhaps she was not a princess, but she was indeed rescued by the huntsman.”

“Well, Red Riding Hood was a little girl,” Emma pointed out. “She needed rescuing. She couldn’t defend herself against the wolf.”

Regina laughed sardonically behind the mirror. “And how do you think these other women are portrayed in the fairytales, Little Swan? Like little girls who could not do anything before a man showed up and rescued them. But alas, if reading about damsels in distress being rescued by prince Charming is indeed what you prefer to read about, then so be it.”

“I like fairy tales,” Emma defended. “I’ve always liked fairy tales.” 

Regina laughed once more. “And I suppose you’re dreaming about being rescued a handsome prince too, then?”

“Not really. I’d prefer being rescued by a princess if I really had to be rescued by anyone,” it bursted out of Emma. The words simply tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. 

Regina went silent behind the mirror, and Emma, finally realizing what she had said, clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. God, she had not meant to say that out loud! Another blush rose in her cheeks, and she had absolutely no idea what to say now. Perhaps she should just excuse herself and leave the room before she could dig herself in deeper. She scratched the now fading pillow mark on her burning cheek. Why did she always speak so freely when Regina was around? That was not good. She feared that one day it could get her in serious trouble. 

“Hmm,” Regina said again. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Little Swan.”

“Uhmm-“ Emma stuttered. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t even know why I-“

“Are you ashamed?” Regina interrupted. 

“No,” Emma said quickly. No, she was not ashamed over her sexuality. But she sometimes felt a bit silly. She had never even kissed a girl (or a boy for that matter) so how could she possibly know what she liked and did not like? Sometimes she feared that her lack of experience made her less valid in the LBGT+ community. 

“Good,” Regina said simply. “You should not be. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“I know,” Emma said slightly puzzled. This was the nicest thing Regina had said since she tapped on the mirror. The only thing that was not sarcastic or biting in anyway. For once, she actually sounded sincere. A rarity.

Emma flushed again, not embarrassed about being who she was, but she was most certainly embarrassed about blurting it out to Regina at random. That was not the type of thing they talked about. Ever.   
And talking about her sexuality was dangerously close to talking about the developing feelings she was having for the Phantom of the Opera. She cleared her throat. It was time to talk about something else. “Will you come and hear me rehearse today?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please?” Emma asked. She did so like it when Regina was present in the auditorium. Knowing that she was here when nobody else suspected a thing was thrilling. A secret just between Emma and Regina. 

Regina scoffed behind the mirror. “You are trying to persuade me to put myself in danger of potentially being seen by some of your little friends and your insipid teacher.”

“Mal isn’t insipid!” Emma protested. 

Regina laughed throatily. “Indeed?” 

“She’s just.... not the kind of teacher you are,” Emma admitted. “You’re better.” 

“Of course I am, Little Swan. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Emma shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in here for a moment?” 

“Absolutely not. Miss Lily Drake has the unfortunate habit of bursting inside your room at all hours. I do not understand how you cope with it.”

Emma tilted her head although Regina could not see it. “How do YOU cope with it? I barge into your home at all hours-“

“You come because I summon you,” Regina interrupted almost lazily. 

Emma held her tongue and said nothing. It wasn’t the truth. She did not just come because Regina required food. But she did not tell Regina that. Of course she did not. 

Knock-knock-knock! “Em? Are you coming downstairs to have breakfast?” Lily asked from behind the door. 

Regina laughed quietly behind the mirror.

“What was that?” Lily asked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Emma said loudly to mask the sound of Regina still laughing. “I’ll be right down!”

“Okay. Do you want me to wait for you or anything?”

“No, that’s okay, I have to get dressed first.”

“Oh,” Lily said, sounding a bit more sheepish now. “Okay. I’ll save you a seat then!”

“Thank you.” Emma waited with baited breath until she heard footsteps retreating. Then she turned back to the mirror. “Regina?” she quietly called. “Are you still there?”

There was no answer. And the tiny crack between the mirror and wall was gone too. Regina had slipped away while Emma was talking to Lily. Emma stuck out her bottom lip. She would have liked to talk   
some more to Regina, but because of the interruption, she had no choice but to wait until tonight. She couldn’t stop herself from getting slightly annoyed with Lily. It was like she always chose the worst time possibly to knock on the door. But then Emma scolded herself. Lily had no idea what Emma was doing. She had no idea that Emma had been engaged in a conversation with the Phantom of the Opera. 

And that’s how it should stay. Nobody could know about Regina. 

Emma turned her back on the now silent mirror and finally found that dress in the dresser. Then she headed into the bathroom and traded her nightgown for the white dress. She glanced at herself in the mirror and noted that there was two pink stains on her cheek again. Because she had been talking to Regina. Emma quietly cursed herself for being a dumb little schoolgirl who could not control her reactions. Her palms were slightly damp too. Because Regina had been laughing this particular morning. Hearing her laugh always had a certain effect on Emma. 

Emma licked her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She still could not believe that she had made that confession to Regina. Told her that she preferred a princess over a prince. That was so personal. Not something she shared with many people, and certainly not adults. 

Adults. Yes. Regina was an adult. An adult woman. Very much so. Emma huffed in frustration. Why her? Why couldn’t she just have fallen for the most obvious choice instead? Lily. Lily was nice and funny and everything. But she wasn’t Regina. And of course Emma had to become smitten with the mysterious woman living in the lair......

Breakfast was quickly over with that morning. Emma didn’t have much of an appetite. She rarely had when interacting with Regina in the morning. She was much too busy thinking about what the other woman was doing now. Was she singing to herself in the lair? Or perhaps composing? Or maybe even reading in the fairy tale book Emma gave her. 

After breakfast, they gathered in the auditorium as they always did. Formed three rows as usual. Oldest choir members in the front row, second years in the middle, and youngest in the back. And of course with the soprano being the front figure and the center of attention. But this morning, there was a dent in the usual routine. Ruby was missing, and Malena was not at all happy about it. 

“Does anyone know where Mademoiselle Lucas is?” she asked and narrowed her eyes at the choir. “It’s not like her to be this late!”

Belle waved her hand in the air, and it didn’t take long before Malena noticed it. “Yes, mademoiselle French? Speak up, please!”

“Ruby’s sick,” Belle explained. “She was up all night not feeling well, so I told her to stay in bed and rest.”

“Oh,” Malena’s expression softened slightly. “Well, I suppose that is a valid explanation for not being present. But nevertheless unfortunate...” she sighed, and Emma quickly understood why. Elsa was not present today. She and a couple of the other oldest students were giving a concert in the Madeleine church. 

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to make due without a soprano today then,” Malena said, folding her arms across her chest whilst walking back and forward. “But it will not have the same effect! Heavens above!   
Both of our sopranos gone on the same day and the concert approaching! We need our soprano to lead the rest of the choir, otherwise today’s lessons will be completely wasted-“ her muttering became incoherent and she frowned in frustration.

That was when Lily suddenly stuck a hand in the air. “Excuse me? Malena?” she rolled her eyes at calling her mom by her first name.

“Yes, Lily?” Malena said. “Is there something on your mind?” 

“Yeah. Couldn’t someone else sing it?” Lily suggested. 

“Someone else?” Malena echoed, raising an eyebrow in warning. “And who might that be? Lily, I don’t favorize ANY member of the choir...” 

“I don’t mean ME,” Lily huffed and rolled her eyes again. “I was thinking about Emma, actually!”

Emma stiffened upon hearing her own name being mentioned. What was it Lily was saying?! 

“Emma?” Malena said slowly, eyebrows quirked, and head tilted. 

“Yes,” Lily said eagerly, flashing Emma a sideway grin. “She’s the one who has memorized the entire song, and her voice is the most similar to Ruby’s.”

Emma stood stock still and couldn’t say anything while Lily pointed things out to her mother. 

“Hmm,” Malena said, putting a hand on her hip. “I suppose you may have a point there.”

What?! No! Emma couldn’t! 

Lily gave Emma a slight nudge. “Right? She literally knows every word, she knows exactly how to time her breathing and take pauses, and she can reach those high notes! I’ve heard her practice at night!”

Emma swallowed. She had practiced at night because Regina had told her to. But she had been practicing the songs Regina had taught her. Not the songs she needed to learn for school. Exactly how much had Lily heard? 

“Emma?” Malena asked kindly. 

“Yes?” Emma squeaked and squirmed when the spotlight suddenly was turned to her. 

“Would you?” Malena asked, still kindly. “It really would be a great help.”

“I- I don’t think I can-“

“Of course you can, Em!” Lily interrupted. “You’re great!”

“Your voice has grown stronger and clearer in the months you’ve spent here,” Malena agreed with her daughter. “Strong enough to be heard over the choir. Perhaps it is slightly lighter than Ruby’s, but that won’t be a problem when it’s just for now. I’ll fetch Elsa after this rehearsal, but right now this is a special case, and we cannot postpone the rehearsal....” she discreetly glanced behind her, and when   
Emma followed her gaze, she saw none other than Mr. Gold sitting on one of the backrows. He was going to see the rehearsal today. That was why Malena was willing to let her sing. To not interrupt the rehearsal while Mr. Gold was present. Emma felt the sweat gather at the back of her neck. She couldn’t do this! She absolutely could not!

“Come now, Emma,” Malena said, encouragingly and just a tad insisting. “I would not ask you to do this if I didn’t believe you could do it.”

Emma licked her lips nervously. Everyone was looking at her. If she said no, Malena would be disappointed. The rehearsal would get postponed until Elsa was back in the opera house, and Mr. Gold would have come in vain. That would be awful. Truly awful! But what if she said yes and could not do this? What if she opened her mouth to sing and no words came out? For a moment, Emma imagined how everyone would laugh at her. Everyone in the choir laughing and pointing fingers and whispering when she walked past. ‘Remember that time where Emma couldn’t sing?’ 

Emma bit the inside of her cheek. She knew they weren’t like that. She knew that she was among friends here in the choir, and that she was allowed to fail. But she was still scared, nonetheless. 

“Miss Swan?” Malena asked. Her voice was gentler now. Softer. 

Emma tipped her chin up as a newfound wave of confidence washed over her. The only thing preventing her from doing this, was herself. The only one thinking that she could not do this, was herself. Why should she not be able to do this? Her voice had not failed her in a long, long time. She had sung and sustained. She had gotten rid of the last bit of breathiness. And through lots and lots of hard work, her voice was now crystal clear. Emma had the world’s strictest teacher. She was being guided by a woman who wasn’t often impressed by anything, a woman who possessed an ethereal, stunning voice.   
And the owner of that voice continuously allowed Emma to come back to her lair. Because she thought that Emma had talent. And if the Phantom of the Opera thought that she was talented, what was there to be scared of, really? If Regina could see her potential, why shouldn’t Emma believe that she could in fact do this? If she could sing in front of Regina who insisted upon eye contact, she could play soprano for the choir behind her. 

“Okay,” she murmured quietly. “I’ll do it!” 

“Excellent,” Malena praised and looked genuinely proud. “Come forward, please, Emma. Come. Come along, don’t be shy.”

Emma slowly stepped forward. Left her usual, safe spot in the backrow, literally stepping out of her comfort zone. She tried doing it with a straight back. Tried to ignore the slightly skeptical side-eye Killian Jones gave her. Soon she was standing in Ruby’s usual spot. Which felt so bizarre, Emma had to pinch her arm to make sure she was not dreaming. Mr. Gold was sitting on one of the velvet seats in the back, but that was not the main thing Emma was focusing on. It was what she had seen out of the corner of her eye. The slightest movement from Box Five. Perhaps it had been the swish of a feathered cloak. Or a head full of dark hair ducking down to hide. Emma’s heart started thumping in her chest upon realizing that she and the choir, Malena and Mr. Gold were not alone in the auditorium. 

Regina was here. Regina was about to hear Emma sing solo in front of the rest of the choir. Regina would know if Emma messed this up. She would know and most likely be disappointed about it. Emma straightened her back again. Lifted her chin. Now more than ever, it was important to do good. God, how she wanted to do good! She wanted Regina to be proud. And Mal, a sensible little voice in the back of her head reminded her. Of course. Mal too. Yes. 

“Well then. From the beginning of the aria then please, mademoiselle,” Mal said lightly and switched on the background music they always used for rehearsals. The orchestra was for ‘real’ shows. 

Emma closed her eyes, breathed slowly in and out for a moment. She could do this. She HAD to do this. To make Regina proud and once again prove herself to be the Phantom of the Opera’s protégé. 

“’Nessun dorma, Nessun dorma,’” she sang, and courage almost immediately deserted her because her voice sounded so small and fragile in the big room. She could feel everyone’s eyes upon her. Including the most important pairs of eyes in this room. Those dark orbs that so rarely shone with anything. Least of all pride. She had only seen Regina look proud a couple of times, and she was determined to make it happen again. Which meant that she would have to pull herself together. She took another breath, quickly filled her lungs with air and then started again: “’Nessun dorma, nessun dorma.... Tu pure, o Principessa, nella tua fredda stanza. Guardi le stelle, che tremano d’amore e di Speranza....’” she could feel it as she sang. The confidence that filled her chest and soared out through her mouth along with the song. She did not feel scared or shy anymore. She was in the music. And the music was in her. There was nothing to be afraid of. 

Fearlessly, she stepped forward, into the light and lifted her eyes to Box Five. She could not see Regina. But she knew that Regina could see her. And if there was something Emma wanted right now, it was to be seen. Spontaneously, she started walking back and forward on the stage exactly like she would have done in the Phantom’s lair. “’Ma il mio mistero é chiuso in me, il nome mio nessun saprá... No, no, sulla tua bocca lo diró! Quando la luce splenderá. Ed il mio bacio scioglierá il silenco.... Che ti fa mia...’”. She heard the choir start vocalizing behind her, and Emma dared looking up towards Box Five. 

Now she could see Regina. She was looking down at her. It was impossible to see her expression, but she was looking at her. That was the most important thing. 

“’Dilegua, o notte tramontate, stelle,’” she sang, and her voice soared like a little bird flittering towards the ceiling. Every word was crystal clear. Her voice was light without becoming too sharp. 

Everything Regina had taught her was coming to light, and Emma felt something she had never felt before. She felt how intoxicating it was to be in the one in focus. The star. The soprano. The one the lights shone upon. Behind her, the choir sang with her, and as the music picked up and she sang the last ‘Vincerò!’, she felt how her heart started to flutter in her chest again. She held the note, sustained along with the rest of the choir. The crystal in her voice was as sweet as could be, and Emma felt almost cocky. Unreasonable confident like she never had been before. 

“Well, well,” Malena said when the song was done. 

“I believe you’ve made quite the discovery with miss Swan,” Mr. Gold observed. 

Emma smiled and blushed and had no other choice but to sing the song again....

When the rehearsal was over, Emma felt like she was floating on a cloud. She had ended up going through the entire program with the choir. She had done everything she had seen Ruby doing, and Malena’s smile had widened more and more. Mr. Gold had even applauded by the time Emma finished singing. Emma was utterly proud of herself, and Lily, Anna and Belle were crowding around her. All of them wanted to know how she had managed to get so good. 

“Seriously, where in the world have you been hiding?” Lily demanded, squeezing Emma’s arm. “Really, you were perfect!”

“You gave me no choice,” Emma reminded her and lifted an eyebrow. “I cannot believe you handed me to Malena like that!”

“I can’t believe you just did THAT,” Lily huffed. “You’ve been holding out on us, you have!” 

“Yes. You have,” Killian said, tilting his head and eying Emma suspiciously. “A few months ago you were too scared to open your mouth.”

“Killian!” Belle said sharply.

Killian didn’t say anything else. He merely shrugged as he walked off. It was lunch time. 

“Ignore him,” Lily said quickly and wrapped an arm around Emma. “He’s just jealous.”

“Mmm,” Emma said a bit absentmindedly as she looked at Killian. Yes, she hoped that was it. She did not want anyone to get a whiff of her secret. 

“Come on, Em,” Lily said briskly and began walking towards the door with Belle and Anna trailing after her. “Let’s go and get some lunch!”

But Emma wasn’t quite ready for lunch yet. “I’ll be along in a moment,” she said. “I just need a second to gather my things.” She gestured towards the bag she had left in the auditorium earlier. 

“Okay. We’ll save you a seat,” Lily promised. 

Emma smiled at them, and then her friends walked off. They disappeared through the door and Emma was alone in the auditorium. Mr. Gold and Malena had already left. Mr. Gold most likely had some kind of important business to attend to, and Malena was heading to the Madeleine church to take over from Mme. Carlotta who had been there with the older students. 

Emma looked around in the quiet auditorium. Then she laughed quietly to herself. Could not believe that she had just done this. Sung solo in front of the entire choir. She never would have dared doing this a few months back. She didn’t even knew she dared doing it NOW. But the question was... Would she have dared doing it if Regina had not been present? Or would she have reverted back to the shy, scared Emma Swan she had been only months ago? Yes. Most likely. 

“Brava, brava, bravissima....”

A slight tremor ran through Emma’s body. So she wasn’t completely alone in the auditorium after all. Regina was still here. Emma lifted her head, glanced upwards, and now she could see her. Regina. She was sitting in the velvet chair in Box Five. Completely visible as though she had been there all the time. How did she manage to hide so well up there? Someday, Emma would have to ask her about it. 

But not right now. Right now, Emma was mostly focused on one thing. Getting up there as quickly as possible. Briskly, she walked towards the stairs, and she was certain she saw Regina raise an eyebrow in surprise. Perhaps she had not expected Emma to come to her. She should know better by now. She should know that Emma would take every opportunity to come to her. 

Singing was straining, and Emma was a bit breathless when she made it up to Box Five where Regina was sitting. “Hello,” she greeted. 

“Hello,” Regina parroted, and yes, her eyebrow was most definitely raised in a ‘what are you doing?’-manner. 

“You came anyway,” Emma beamed. 

“I had nothing better to do,” Regina said with a light shrug. 

Emma looked at her. Today Regina was wearing a black velvet dress with bat sleeves and embellishment on the v shaped neckline. Emma wondered in which production that dress had been used in. She could not imagine anyone beside Regina wear it. 

“Were you here the whole time?” Emma asked to distract herself from looking at the neckline on Regina’s dress. 

“Yes.”

“I sang in front of everyone,” Emma beamed. 

“Yes you did, Little Swan,” Regina nodded. “It’s an absolute mystery to me while you’re in the backrow. And it’s also a mystery why you keep coming back to the lair. You obviously do not need my assistance anymore.” 

“Yes I do!” Emma said quickly. “There’s still so much I need to learn!”

Regina scoffed quietly and tapped the white half-mask lightly once. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to have lunch with your little friends?” 

“In a moment,” Emma assured. “I just figured we could....talk a bit?”

“What do you want to talk about, Little Swan?” Regina teased. “Pick a subject and I shall tell you everything I know about it.” 

Emma snickered. It was so rare that Regina made a joke without sounding mocking. And she hadn’t sounded mocking right now. “What are we gonna sing tonight?” she asked to keep the conversation going. 

“Hmm,” Regina leaned back in the velvet chair as though she was a queen, and this was her throne. “Perhaps we’ll work through some of the songs you have to learn for your choir lessons.”

“Okay,” Emma said and tried not to sound too disappointed. Of course she liked the songs they rehearsed in the choir, but she preferred the songs Regina taught her. She liked singing the songs Regina   
told her to. But her most favorite thing ever was to sit on the floor and look at Regina as she sat by the piano and played and composed whilst mumbling or humming to herself. Seeing Regina create music was the most fascinating thing ever to Emma. She loved it. 

Regina chuckled silkily. “It cannot always be fun and games, Little Swan.” She had clearly sensed Emma’s disappointment. 

“I never said it has to be,” Emma mumbled. “I just... I like your music better.”

“Of course you do. It’s brilliant,” Regina said simply and leaned back in the velvety chair once more, clearly amused by Emma’s obvious disappointment and following attempt to cover it. She reached up and tugged a lock of dark hair behind her visible ear while still being openly amused.

But amusement was the last thing on Emma’s mind now. Because while she had been fixing her hair, the long sleeves on Regina’s dress had ridden up and bared her arms, and now Emma could clearly see markings on Regina’s left arm. Starting at her wrist and continuing all the way up to the crease of her elbow in a random criss cross pattern. Narrow lines so shockingly red and raw against Regina’s skin.   
A few of them were still bleeding. Emma could count one, two, three, four, five, six bright red lines on Regina’s skin. Six terrible, red lines. They attacked Emma’s eyes, sucker punched her right in the chest. Six lines left in the wake of whatever sharp object that had punctuated Regina’s skin. Just looking at them made Emma’s own arm burn and hurt terribly. She so wanted this to be a leftover of what Regina’s mother had done to her. Well, no, she did not. She did not want Regina to have any type of harmful marks on her body at all, but right now Emma so would have preferred this to be old scars and not something that had been done recently. Because she knew what that meant. She knew exactly how Regina had gotten those marks.

Emma’s throat immediately felt constricted and full as though there was a massive lump stuck there. “Wha...” her voice caught in her throat, but now it had nothing to do with breathlessness. “What is that?” she asked. Not that she needed to. She knew damn well what it was. 

“What is what?” Regina asked, still unaware of what Emma just had seen. But not for long. She glanced down and saw that her arm had been exposed, and she was quick to tug the sleeve down and cover the red lines on her arm. “Oh. It’s nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing,” Emma whispered. 

“Yes, it is!” Regina sneered. “And even if it is not, it’s none of your business!” 

Emma leaned forward and spontaneously (but gently) grabbed Regina’s arm. She drew her sleeve up once more. When did she become so bold? When did she start daring to touch Regina so freely? 

“What the hell are you doing?” Regina hissed and tried to pull her arm out of Emma’s grasp. “Stop it!” 

But Emma did not stop it. Instead she looked at the marks on Regina’s arm. Looked at them even though a part of her wanted to roll Regina’s sleeve down and pretend that she never had seen them in the first place. But she could not do that. The marks were there. They were real, they were right there on Regina’s skin, and Emma would be damned if she ignored them. She looked up at Regina with eyes that threatened to spill over. “You’re hurting yourself,” she whispered. 

“So what?” Regina said. But her voice lacked its usual bite. Perhaps it was even trembling a little. Her dark eyes flickered a bit and she tried to tug her arm out of Emma’s grasp once more.

Emma obeyed the silent command and released Regina’s arm, but somehow her thumb ended up resting on Regina’s palm. 

Regina did not move her hand away, but she didn’t necessarily look like she condoned what Emma was doing. For the first time in all the time Emma had known her, Regina actually looked a bit insecure. 

“Does it not hurt?” Emma asked softly and blinked. Something wet landed on her cheeks and she cursed herself forgetting upset when Regina was the one who was bleeding and not her. 

“I have experienced worse pain,” Regina replied. Voice flat and eyes unfocused as she stared at the stage without seeing it. 

“You’re bleeding,” Emma whispered. Her voice broke. Regina was bleeding from the cuts on her arm, and all she had to say was that she had experienced worse pain than that. Good god!

“So I’ve noticed. That was not the intention.”

“What was the intention then?” Emma murmured.

“To think about something else,” Regina said simply. “To hurt somewhere else. But it does not work. It rarely does.” 

Emma looked into Regina’s dark eyes. “Why, Regina?” she asked with a voice that now trembled slightly. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Why not?” Regina hissed and finally moved her hand away.

“Don’t say that,” Emma pleaded and bit the inside of her cheek. “Please.”

“What I do is my business, little Swan,” Regina said tightly. “It does not concern you.”

“It does,” Emma said and tried not to cry. “I can see that you’re hurting!”

“It heals!” Regina snapped. “It always does!”

“’Always’?” Emma echoed and looked down at the markings once more. Now, as she looked past the fresh, bright red lines, she could see a million little faded white scars scattered all over Regina’s arm.   
“Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “Regina!”

“Shut up!” Regina hissed. “Or are you trying to make everyone come back?!”

Emma did not react to it at all. Instead she gently brushed her thumb over one of the healed wounds on Regina’s arm, desperately wishing that she could make it go away simply by touching it. But of course she could not. She looked up at Regina again. “Please stop hurting yourself,” she whispered. Please, please stop! She couldn't bear this. She couldn't bear seeing the many self-inflicted cuts on Regina's arm.

Regina laughed bitterly. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Little Swan. Nothing is ever that simple.”

“Does it hurt?” Emma asked again, this time looking for a more truthful answer. 

And she got one. “Yes,” Regina said tightly. “It does.”

Emma inspected the wounds one more time. No, she could not make them go away by looking at them. But she could do something else. “They need cleaning,” she murmured. “Otherwise they’ll get infected.” 

“Yes, well, I don’t exactly have a first aid kit lying around. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Regina said dryly and shook her sleeve back where it belonged. 

“I have one,” Emma said as she made a spontaneous decision. 

“A what?”

“A first aid-kit.” Emma rose from her odd kneeling position on the floor. “Come back to my room so I can clean the wounds.” 

Regina looked skeptic and raised an eyebrow. “Little Swan-“

“Please,” Emma interrupted, begging even though she had no business begging. “You’ve helped me all these months. Let me help you now. I don’t want the wounds to get infected. You could get dirt in them. Please, let me help you, Regina.” 

Regina gave her a look. “I don’t think you like looking at them, Little Swan.”

“I don’t,” Emma admitted. “But I don’t like seeing you hurting either.”

“And you think that cleaning these wounds will make me stop hurting?” Regina retorted. Not unkindly. 

“It’ll make your arm stop hurting,” Emma said slowly. That was the best she could do right now when she still had a lump in her throat. 

To her utmost surprise, Regina laughed throatily. “Very well,” she said, immediately sounding a bit more like herself. “Clean the wounds if that’s what you desire, Little Swan. Meet me in your room in.... ten minutes.” 

“And you’ll be there?” Emma asked. Just to make sure. “You won’t just... not show up?”

“I will show up,” Regina vowed as she shook her sleeves back in place and rose from the chair. “Ten minutes....” 

Needless to say, Emma rushed through lunch. She ate one slice of bread, took one sip of water, and then excused herself. She ran all the way back to her room, lungs basically collapsing when she made it   
to her destination. But her lungs giving up easily became the last thing she was thinking about when she saw Regina sit so nonchalantly on her bed. She was fiddling with something. A long chain around her neck. There was something dangling from the chain as well. Something Emma couldn’t quite see what was, but it had to be some kind of pendant. Before she could determinate what it was though,   
Regina tugged it away under her dress. Then she looked up at Emma. “Well. I’m here.”

“Yes,” Emma breathed. “You are.” Thank god. She hastily walked over to the bed, knelt down and found the little red suitcase containing the first aid kit underneath it. 

“Let me guess... Your parents sent that along with you, didn’t they?” Regina asked and shifted a bit. 

“They did,” Emma confirmed. 

“So worried about their Little Swan,” Regina mused. “That’s nice.” The last part was said without an ounce of sarcasm.

Emma sat down next to her on the bed and opened the red suitcase. Found the cotton bud and bottle of disinfectant liquid. She popped the lid off the bottle and let the liquid soak the cotton bud she was   
holding under it. 

Regina sighed as she rolled her dress sleeve up again and bared her arms and nasty red lines on it. 

“This may sting a bit,” Emma apologized in advantage as she lowered the cotton bud.

Regina said absolutely nothing as Emma gently dabbed the cotton bud over the red lines on her arm, but her mouth became a thin line, and she appeared to be stifling a hiss or two. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Emma apologized.

“Why are you sorry?” Regina asked dryly. “It’s not like its your fault, Little Swan. I’m the one who brought this upon myself.” 

Emma gently ran the cotton bud over the lines again. Up and down. From Regina’s wrist and to the crease of her elbow. If only she could make the angry, red lines go away simply by doing this. If only she could make ALL the lines go away. The faded, pale lines that looked to be years old. It broke Emma’s heart to think about how many times Regina had done this to herself. How many times she had felt compelled to create a different type of pain than the one she was already feeling.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. 

“It’s still not your fault.”

“I know. That’s not why I’m sorry,” Emma whispered. She was not apologizing. She was expressing her grief. She carefully swiped up the few drops of dried blood that was sticking to Regina’s skin. “How often do you do this?” she asked quietly. 

“When I need to,” Regina said gruffly. “When something triggers it.”

“And what.... What triggered it today?”

Now Regina swallowed audibly and hissed. “The same thing that has been triggering it for the past three years, Little Swan. Christine Daaé.” 

Christine Daaé. The name echoed in Emma’s head. She ran the cotton bud over Regina’s arm one last time and then looked up at Regina. “Will you ever tell me more about her?” she asked carefully. Was afraid to make Regina upset. 

“Perhaps,” Regina said almost melodically. “Or perhaps not. It is not only my story to tell. It is Christine’s as well.” 

Emma said nothing. Only thought about the little flower patterned book Christine had written all her secrets in. All the answers were in that book. But Emma would never ask about it again. She would wait until Regina was willing to share it with her. 

“There,” she murmured, putting the cotton bud down. “It’s all clean now.” 

“Excellent,” Regina said and attempted to pull her sleeve back down, but Emma stopped her. 

“May I bandage it for you?” she asked. 

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“Well... So you don’t accidentally get dirt in it.”

Regina gave her a look. “No,” she said, voice dropping an octave or two. “No, that’s not it. You want to bandage it because you don't want to look at it.”

"No." Emma said at once. "I want to bandage it so YOU don't have to look at it."

Regina laughed bitterly. "I already know that I am hideous, Little Swan. What is a few extra scars?" 

"You're not hideous!" Emma said with more intensity than she had been meaning to. "Don't say that!"

Regina's eyebrow rose, and she squinted behind the mask. “You care an awful lot, Little Swan."

“Of course I do. We’re friends.” Emma blinked at her, still a bit shocked about her outburst. ”Aren’t we?”

“Friends,” Regina repeated with a slight nod. “Yes. I suppose we are.” 

“Friends help each other,” Emma continued and found the roll of bandage in her little first-aid suitcase. “May I?” 

“I suppose it can’t harm,” Regina said and held out her arm once more. 

Emma made sure to be more than gentle as she carefully wrapped the bandage around Regina’s injured arm. Regina was standing completely still. She did not hiss or frown or complain in anyway. And she had a certain look in her eyes. One that prompted Emma to ask: “this is not the first time someone bandages your wounds, is it?”

“No,” the Phantom of the Opera confirmed. She drew in a breath. “No, Christine cared an awful lot about my wounds too.” 

“I’m glad she did,” Emma said and tightened the bandage just a little. “Am I hurting you?” 

“No. It’s fine.” Regina frowned softly. “I suppose Christine would be awfully disappointed if she could see me now.”

“Why?” 

“Because I promised her to stop. For good. I never should have. I’m no good at keeping promises.” 

“Maybe I can make a promise then?” Emma suggested. 

“What kind of promise would that be, Little Swan?” 

Emma drew in a breath. “I promise to help you if something similar-“

“Not if. When.” Regina dully corrected. 

“When,” Emma said although she wished it was ‘if’ and not ‘when’. “I promise to help you w-when something similar happens. And if you need to talk about the things that makes you want to do this to yourself... I’m here. I promise to listen without asking any questions.”

“And are you certain you can keep that promise, Little Swan?” 

“No,” Emma said. “But I promise to try.” She finished her work and inspected the bandage. “This should last for a couple of days. But then it’s going to need changing.”

“I suppose I’ll have to come back then,” Regina said and rolled her sleeve down. She turned around and walked towards the mirror, but right before she was about to push it open, she stilled with a hand on the frame. Turned her head and looked at Emma. 

“I’ll... I’ll see you tonight?” Emma asked hesitantly. The look on Regina’s face confused her. 

The Phantom of the Opera nodded, and her lips curled up in an unexpected smile that was only slightly crooked because of the half-mask. “Thank you,” she said as she walked back so she was standing right in front of Emma. 

Emma’s eyes widened. “You’re.... You’re welcome,” she said completely shell-shocked. Regina NEVER said thank you for anything. But that was not the only reason why she was shell-shocked. Regina was suddenly standing very close to her.

“You’re the first person who have cared about me for a long time,” Regina said quietly, and before Emma could as much as blink, the Phantom of the Opera had reached out and touched her cheek. It was over so quickly. The slightest touch of Regina’s warm fingers grazing her cheek. Happening in the blink of an eye.

“Thank you,” The Phantom of The Opera repeated so softly it was a mere whisper. Then she turned around and disappeared through the mirror with her dress swishing behind her, leaving a completely shocked Emma to stand alone in her room, pressing a hand to her burning cheek and trying to grasp what had just transpired.....

To Be Continued........


	29. Child Of The Wilderness

Another month passed, and Regina never mentioned the ‘incident’ again. She never spoke a word about the self-inflicted wounds on her arm.  
Emma discreetly observed The Phantom of the Opera, though. One night the bandage around her arm was gone, and she never asked for plaster or bandage again. But Emma kept an eye on her. Made sure to look and check every time Regina’s sleeves rode up. But she only saw scars in various states of healing. No new one. Thank god. 

Meanwhile, the big concert was rapidly approaching, and Emma was growing more and more nervous. Regina was a tougher teacher than ever, but Emma actually appreciated it. She needed all the coaching she could possibly get. Only three more months to the concert. It seemed impossible that time had gone by so fast. But it had. And Emma was sort of anxious about seeing her parents again. Anxious if they could sense the change in her. Because Emma most certainly was changed. Her ‘crush’ on Regina was growing bigger every single day. She had dubbed it ‘crush’. However ridiculous it sounded. But she didn’t quite dare thinking of it as being in love. Despite that being exactly what she was. In love with the Phantom of the Opera. How stupid could one person even BE? Of all the people in the whole world, Emma had to fall for the mask wearing, unobtainable woman who lived in the opera cellar. 

Emma’s eyes hung at Regina’s lips every time she opened her mouth. She listened to Regina like she had never listened to anyone else. She paid attention in a way that almost had her ears straining. And when Regina sang, Emma’s breath quickened. She broke out in sweat that gathered at the back of her neck, and her palms dampened rapidly. Her pulse quickened, the blood rolled quicker in her veins, and when Regina sang, Emma could have swooned on the spot. Perhaps Regina had not hypnotized her, but she didn’t need to. Emma already felt in trance. She always did when Regina sang. She never felt like herself when Regina sang. Reckless. Hearing Regina sing made her want to do stupid stuff. Like inching closer to the older woman and putting a hand on her arm. Her knee. Perhaps lean in. 

Emma often thought about kissing Regina. Too often. The thought was of course completely absurd. But often, when she laid in bed and tried to fall asleep, she imagined herself turning around instead of leaving the lair after a finished lesson. She imagined walking back to Regina, wrapping her arms around her and kissing her. Before Regina could get the chance to say or do anything.   
Emma had never thought about kissing anyone before. She hadn’t met anyone she found worth kissing. Not until she met Regina, of course. There was just something about her that made Emma’s skin tighten and tingle and think thoughts she wouldn’t usually think. 

Emma knew that having a crush on Regina was a bad thing, but she could not help it. She was starting to feel like she was obsessed with Regina or something. Obsessed with the Phantom of the Opera.  
And she was so afraid that other people would find out. Words had gone around at the opera about her being ‘stand-in’ for Ruby that day, and Emma was certain she had seen Ruby look at her when she thought Emma was not paying attention. She was sure that Ruby was giving her a searching look every so often. 

Emma knew that was her own fault. She had been so focused on showing off that day when Mal had asked her to sing in Ruby’s place. She had been so eager to show Regina how much she had learned that she hadn’t used her head. The other members of the choir how she usually sang. They knew that she wasn’t normally full of confidence. They knew that her voice usually was soft and light and not high and strong. And that was what it had been that afternoon. Of course that had made them wonder. Of course that had lead Ruby to be curious. 

So now Emma was trying her best to keep her head down and fly under the radar. She was not interested in being the center of attention anymore. If she stood out from the crowd, her friends would grow   
curious. And maybe, just maybe, they would start investigating the reason for her newfound confidence. And that was something that could not happen. Nobody could ever find out about the Phantom of the Opera. That was Emma’s secret. 

Luckily, Emma was doing a very good job at keeping her head down. Ruby and Lily and the others soon lost interest in her, but there was some talk in the choir about Emma being the new ‘favorite’ because Mal had asked her to sing. The talk came from Killian, and Lily had immediately come to Emma’s aid. She had snapped at Killian and told him that it was HER who had suggested that Emma should sing in Ruby’s place. Not Emma herself. And so Killian had wisely backed off. Emma had thanked Lily who in return had smiled beamingly at her. A little TOO beamingly. Emma had hoped that Lily’s fascination with her would fade eventually, and it had for a while. But then it had returned in full force after Emma had sung for them. Lily’s smiles were warmer than ever. She constantly made eye contact with Emma or found the opportunity to put a hand on Emma’s arm. 

Emma knew that she should do something about it. And she would. But she hated conflicts. She didn’t want to hurt Lily. She didn’t want to loose her as a friend. So she silently hoped that Lily’s ‘crush’ on her would fade away in time. Before she had to address it in anyway. Meanwhile, she did her best to get Lily and Mulan, another first year choir-member talking. Mulan was a nice girl. Very extroverted. Like Lily. She was a far better match for Lily. Emma had never played match maker before, but there was a first time for everything....

Emma woke. Her room was pitch black and it was clearly the middle of the night. She should not be awake right now. But something had roused her from her sleep. A sound. 

Emma sat up in bed and listened intensely. What was what? And where did it come from? Her first impulse was to glance towards the mirror. Was it Regina rummaging around behind the mirror? And if so, what was she doing in the middle of the night? Emma frowned as she strained her ears. No. No, it didn’t come from behind the mirror. Deep down, she hadn’t expected to, really. She instinctively knew that Regina never would frighten her. Not like this and not in the middle of the night. 

So what was that sound? Listening a bit more intensely, Emma realized that the sound was in fact coming from the hallway. Emma frowned. It sounded like footsteps. Like someone was walking around out there. But why? It was- Emma quickly glanced at the alarm clock- three o’clock in the morning. Why would anyone be walking the hallways now? Was it a member from the choir? Perhaps something was wrong. Maybe somebody had gotten sick during the night or something. If that was the case, Emma of course wanted to help as best as she could. Being sick was horrible enough, but being sick a long way from home was even worse. 

She hopped out of bed and threw her terry cloth bathrobe over her white nightgown. She was halfway over to the door when she suddenly picked up on something. It didn’t really SOUND like the footsteps of a student. Not that Emma claimed to recognize a person from their footsteps, but these footsteps sounded a lot heavier than the footsteps of a younger person. So maybe it wasn’t an ill student after all. Maybe it was one of the teachers instead. 

But that didn’t really make sense either. The teacher’s quarter wasn’t around here. It was four floors up. And why would a teacher roam around in the choir dormitory in the middle of the night? It didn’t make any sense. 

A shiver crept down Emma’s spine. If it wasn’t a student or a teacher walking around out there.... Then WHO was it? Not Regina. Emma could already rule out that possibility. Perhaps Regina could be a bit careless from time to time, but not like this. She never walked around in the opera during the night. So why start now? That wouldn’t make a wink of sense either. And now she could hear those footsteps again. Thud, thud, thud, down the hallway. Clearly retrieving.

Emma was suddenly grabbed by an unexpected wave of fearlessness. She yanked the door open and peered into the dark hallway. “Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”

There was no answer, but it did not take long before another door was opened, and Lily’s sleepy face appeared in the opening. “Emma?” she half-yawned. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Emma said quickly. “I just thought I heard something.”

“Heard something?” Lily repeated and rubbed her eyes. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know, it sounded like someone maybe was walking down the hallway or something,” Emma said, careful to sound casual. She didn’t want to alarm Lily or anything. 

But Lily wasn’t the least bit alarmed. “Oh,” she said, now chuckling. “You know what, I think that might have been Belle or Ruby, Ems. They often sneak into each other’s rooms at night to.... Well, you know what.” She snickered. 

“Yep,” Emma muttered. She did know that Ruby and Belle were lovers as well as choir-colleagues. 

Lily chuckled again. “You okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fast asleep in two seconds. See you in the morning. Goodnight, Em.”

“’Night, Lily,” Emma said. 

Lily closed the door to her own room. Emma heard some shuffling from in there and then nothing else. Just quiet. She strained her ears as much as she could, but she could not hear anything. The footsteps were gone. Disappeared as abruptly as she had heard them. But they had been there. She was sure of that. She wasn’t imagining things or going crazy. Someone had a hundred percent been walking down the hallway a moment ago. Someone with heavy, solid footsteps. But who? Ruby? Belle? No. Emma did not believe that. Neither Ruby nor Belle walked like that, she was sure of that. They didn’t have such heavy, echo-y footsteps. And if it truly had been one of them, they would have been barefooted, right? Whoever it was walking down the hallway a moment ago, had not been barefooted.   
Bare feet didn’t sound like that against a stone floor. 

Emma quietly closed her door, and after considering for a second, she also locked it. Suddenly she felt weird. A bit afraid. Who was it that had been walking down the hallway in the middle of the night? If it truly had been one of the teachers, surely they would have reacted when she opened the door and called out for them. They wouldn’t just... disappear like that. It was weird. 

Emma took off her bathrobe and climbed back to bed. But she didn’t feel very sleepy anymore. All her senses were on high alert, and- she glanced towards the mirror again- what she really wanted to do, was to open the mirror, walk through the secret passageway and find Regina in the lair. Tell her about it. Ask her if it had been her walking down the hallway. But deep down, Emma knew that it was not.   
Regina would never do that. But who was it then? Who had business in the choirs dormitory in the middle of the night?

The answer to that was simple. Nobody. Nobody had business here....

Come morning, Emma was quite certain that she had made a fuss over nothing last night. Of course what she had heard last night had simply been a choir member. Ruby or Belle. And the reason why they hadn’t answered when she called out to them was because they did not want to be caught red-handed. Because you weren’t really supposed to be walking around in the hallway during the night. Emma was quite sure that was the answer to the unsolved mystery, but just to make sure, she was planning on asking them during breakfast. Of course she wasn’t gonna tattle to a teacher or anything, she just wanted to know. That was all. 

Satisfied with that, Emma took a quick shower and then got dressed in the usual white choir dress. She pulled her hair back in a braid, added a bit of mascara to her lashes and then slipped on her glasses.   
The world instantly looked sharper, brighter. Emma too felt brighter after last night. Obviously, she had just been a little paranoid. And today she felt a bit silly, to be honest. She should just have ignored it and gone back to sleep. There had been no reason whatsoever to involve Lily in the matter. Now Lily was probably worried about her, and Emma didn’t want that. Nor did she want the rumor that she was a scaredy cat to spread in the dormitory. She did not need that. She had barely managed to shake the ‘teacher’s pet’ rumor off of her. 

Emma stilled with a hand still on the grey cardigan she had been in the process of slipping on. Teacher’s pet. She knew that Killian and the other few who had been teasing her, meant that she was Malena’s pet. But Malena was not Emma’s ‘real’ teacher. Regina was. And Emma did not feel very insulted at the prospect of being her other teacher’s pet. She would actually quite like that. 

And now she was thinking about Regina again. Damnit. She shook her head firmly and rolled her eyes at her own foolishness. She was not doing a very good job at following her own rules. And this particular rule consisted of a so-called system she had come up with some late night. Five minutes. That was the amount of time she was allowed to think about Regina during the day. Only five minutes. It was a brutal rule, and Emma was doing a terrible job at following it. Because the Phantom of the Opera filled her mind. She could be eating breakfast and suddenly thinking about the way Regina ate bread. She could be in the middle of a rehearsal, and suddenly the thought of how Regina moved her body when she sang, could pop into her mind, and make her feel all flustered. Sometimes so flustered she fell out of the rhythm. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. That worked perfectly with her plan about keeping her head down, but when it came to NOT thinking about Regina, she was doing a truly awful job.

Emma concluded her visit to the bathroom with shaking her head at the two red stains that had appeared on her cheeks. Undoubtedly another side-effect of thinking too much about Regina.

When she arrived downstairs in the canteen, it did not take long before Lily found her. She glided up beside Emma when Emma was helping herself to a bowl of oatmeal. “Morning, Em,” she greeted. 

“Good morning,” Emma smiled. 

“Ready to sing your heart out?” Lily joked. 

“Mmm,” Emma confirmed, smiling as she nodded. But the real answer was no. She never sung her heart out during official rehearsals. She always waited with doing that until she was back in the Phantom’s lair. 

“Were you okay last night?” Lily inquired, balancing her breakfast tray with one hand whilst reaching for a bowl of fruit with the other.

“Yeah,” Emma assured. “I was fine.”

“You said you heard someone in the hallway?” Lily grabbed a slice of apple and loaded it onto her plate. 

“Yeah, I mean, I think I did,” Emma replied, backpedaling slightly. “It was pretty late, and I was really groggy. Maybe I just heard wrong. Maybe it was something else that woke me.”

“Maybe,” Lily nodded. “Sit with me?” 

“Sure.” 

They headed over to an empty table and sat down. Emma dug into her breakfast. Oatmeal. Hot chocolate. Scrambled eggs. And a little bit of bacon. Maybe it was ‘just’ school breakfast, but it actually tasted really good. As she ate, Emma felt bad for Regina who had to wait until dinner time before getting something to eat. That wasn’t healthy. And Regina was so thin. Had it been possibly, Emma definitely would have brought Regina three meals a day. But unfortunately, she could not. It was risky enough, stealing food from the canteen once a day. Emma was still dreading the day someone would catch her in the act. 

“’Hannibal’, today, was it?” Lily asked and interrupted Emma’s train of forbidden Regina-thoughts. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Emma confirmed. Hannibal was another song they had been rehearsing a lot lately. And it was a bit harder than the O Mio Bambino Caro and Nessun Dorma. But Emma was enjoying it.   
Enjoying that all the focus was on Ruby and not on her. The quicker the choir forgot about her ‘fifteen minutes of fame’, the better. 

“I thought so,” Lily nodded and bit down on her apple slice. “God, mum’s literally not talking about anything else besides that concert!”

Emma chuckled softly. “Well, it is a pretty big deal.”

“Yeah, I get that, but seriously, does she have to talk about it ALL the time?” Lily made a face. “I think she’s dreaming about at night too!”

“Probably,” Emma agreed with a chuckle. 

Lily rolled her eyes. “Personally, I’m way more excited about the masquerade party happening BEFORE the concert. I already have my costume picked out. Do you know who you’re going as?” 

“I... No,” Emma admitted. “Not really.”

“Emma Swan!” Lily scolded. “It’s the biggest event at the opera! You HAVE to find a costume soon!”

“But the ball is still three months away, Lily,” Emma protested. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Lily scoffed. 

Emma felt grateful when she saw Belle and Ruby approach. It didn’t take long before the two older girls asked if they could sit with them. And of course the answer to that was yes. 

But Lily wasn’t done ranting about the masquerade party yet. “Emma hasn’t even picked out a costume yet,” she announced. 

Ruby’s eyebrow rose in disbelief. “Seriously?” 

Emma shrugged. “Do you know what you’re going as?” 

“’Course I do,” Ruby said lightly. “I’m going to be wearing a red dress and a wolf’s mask. Like a twisted version of Red Riding Hood.” 

“And I’m going to live up to my name,” Belle chuckled. “I know it’s a little too obvious, but if your parents really are silly enough to name you ‘Belle’, you might as well just own it, right?” 

“Right,” Emma agreed and wondered if the entire choir already knew what costume they would be wearing. Maybe she was just ridiculously slow when it came to those kind of things. 

“You’re gonna look amazing,” Ruby said softly to Belle. 

Emma saw how Belle blushed and remembered what Lily had said last night. That Ruby and Belle constantly snuck into the other’s room. Perhaps that was what she had heard happen last night. It didn’t   
hurt to ask, did it? 

“Were any of you up last night?” she asked as casually as she possibly could. 

“Up?” Ruby echoed and raised an eyebrow again. “What do you mean?”

“Like...” Emma gestured vaguely. “Out of bed, up.” 

“No,” Belle said, blushing in a way that suggested that she certainly had used this method once or twice. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Emma said, still casually. “I just thought I heard someone in the hallways last night. But it was probably just my imagination playing tricks on me.”

“Well. At long as you don’t dream about the concert,” Lily half-grumbled. 

They all four laughed at that, and Emma pushed her puzzlement aside in favor of something far more important. Breakfast. The most important meal of the day...

The rest of Emma’s day was completely normal. Nothing whatsoever out of the ordinary. She rehearsed after breakfast with the rest of the choir. Had lunch in the canteen, did some school work, attended   
to another rehearsal, this time with Mme. Carlotta as the teacher in charge. Completely normal. Mme. Carlotta was her usual, strict self, and Emma sang along on Hannibal with the rest of the choir.

When it became time for dinner, Emma performed her ‘usual’ routine. She went up to the large buffet-table and napped four sandwiches. Two for herself, and two for Regina. She also took a shiny red apple (Regina liked those) and two chocolate cookies. Regina liked those too. Despite claiming that it ruined her teeth. 

Emma didn’t even flinch as she stuffed the stolen things into her bag. Stealing food barely touched her any longer, and while she supposed that she should feel guilty for it, she couldn’t. Regina had to eat, too did she not? And besides, there was plenty of food. Nobody noticed that two extra sandwiches or chicken drumsticks went missing. Emma had been doing this thing for months, and nobody had ever as much as batted an eye. It exhilarated her. It was almost shameful to admit to herself, but stuffing the stolen goods into her bag gave her a certain thrill. An adrenaline kick, almost. An unbridled joy that   
she once again had gotten away with stealing. 

Emma tried not to think about how wrong that was of her. She mostly pushed the feeling of thrill aside and went about her business. And her business was to sit down and eat her food while pretending that she had not just stolen something. Today she actually had a very good excuse for not lingering too long in the canteen. Homework. Their teacher, Madame Potts, their teacher hadn’t been very kind to them when it came to homework. Actually, Madame Potts was a nasty old hag. At least that was what the other first year students said. Emma sort of felt the same way about the teacher, but she was too polite to say it out loud. And she was also afraid that Madame Potts would overhear her. That woman had an ability to show up out of nowhere. Like professor Snape, Lily often joked. 

After having eaten her sandwich, Emma casually excused herself and announced that she wanted to get a head start on that stupid homework. And for once, Lily did not ask if they should study together. She just nodded and declared that Madame Potts sucked. 

Emma nodded vaguely and left the canteen. As casually as possible. It wasn’t until she made it to the grand staircase leading up to the dormitory that she dropped the act and started walking with a certain bounce in her steps. On the second staircase, she nearly ran into Mr. Gold. He had his office on the fourth floor and was probably on his way downstairs to get some dinner. Emma flashed him a smile and a ‘good evening, Mr. Gold’. He returned the smile and greeting, and Emma continued up the stairs. 

Returning to her room, Emma did her usual thing. Locked the door so nobody could come in here and find the room empty. Put her backpack on the floor momentarily while shrugging off her cardigan. It was not that the lair was particularly warm or anything, but Emma didn’t want to look too conservative. 

She folded the cardigan neatly and placed it in her dresser. Then she went into the bathroom and loosened her hair from the braid. Golden locks tumbled down her back. Emma did not attempt to brush out the curls. Instead she ran her fingers through her hair to fluff it up a bit and make it seem bigger than it already was. Next she opened the little cabinet behind the bathroom mirror and found her lipstick. She quickly but neatly applied the red color to her pale lips and urged herself not to scoff while doing so. She was exactly like a high school girl. Loosening her hair and putting on makeup before going to see her crush. Emma knew that what she was doing was pathetic, but she wanted Regina to notice her, damnit! Emma wasn’t bold enough to ever initiate anything. Definitely not. The thought alone made her toes curl. Regina would most likely laugh her head off if she tried. So however pathetic it was, Emma had to continue with this method. Her appearance. Her long golden hair and sweet smile. And her voice of course. If there was something Regina appreciated, it was singing.

Emma put the lipstick aside and fluffed up her hair one last time. This was as good as it could possibly get. 

She crouched down and grabbed her backpack. Slung it over her shoulder. Then she left the bathroom and went over to the big mirror by her bed. She gave the mirror a well-rehearsed shove with her shoulder. The mirror rattled in its frame and then slid aside with a creak. 

When the opening was big enough, Emma wiggled through it and carefully pushed the mirror back in place. Then she began the walk down the darkened passageway. She had forgotten her torch tonight, but she had discovered that she actually did not need it anymore. She did not fear the darkness any longer. At least not this kind of darkness. 

“Hello?” she called into the passageway. There was a point to that. Sometimes she ‘ran into’ Regina in the passageway. Regina never told her why she was in the passageway, or where she had been, and   
Emma had learned not to ask. Instead they simply walked back to the lair together. 

But tonight there was no answer. Regina was most likely in the lair. Perhaps she was composing. Emma loved arriving when Regina was composing. She loved seeing Regina sitting by the piano, mumbling to herself and occasionally tapping a key or two on the piano. She always stopped when Emma arrived, but sometimes she resumed her work during Emma’s visit in the lair. 

Emma liked that too. She loved sitting on the floor and looking at her teacher. 

There was no Regina sitting by the piano when Emma arrived. The lair was quite silent and almost abandoned looking. But of course it was not. Regina was here somewhere. Emma knew that from experience. 

She sat her backpack down on the floor and walked fully into the lair. The candles were flickering slightly. The lair was starting to feel almost like home to Emma. She liked this place more than she liked her little room upstairs. 

Perhaps Regina was not here, but she most definitely had been recently. There were stacks of papers laying on top of the piano. Being the curious individual that she was, Emma of course walked over the there to take a closer look at it, even though Regina would most definitely scold her for it if she caught her in the act. 

There was a half-written piece laying on top, but Emma could also see some of the older pieces Regina had composed. Emma carefully moved the half-written piece out of the way and picked up one of the older pieces. The piece called ‘The Point of No Return’ was laying on top. She squinted behind her glasses as she silently read the lyrics to the second verse: “’past the point of no return, no backward glances, the games we’ve played ‘till now are at an end. Past all thoughts of if and when. No use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend! What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us? Past the point of no return, the final threshold? What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn, beyond the point of no return?’” 

The lyrics were beautiful like poetry. No doubt of that. But the words nevertheless made her feel all flustered. She wondered exactly when Regina had composed this piece. What had prompted her to write these words? They seemed a little too well chosen for just being a song. But then again, Emma could be wrong. She often was. And she was also extremely curious. Curious enough to keep reading: “’You have brought me, to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence.... Silence. I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why! In my mind I’ve already imagined our bodies intwining, defenseless and silent. And now I am here with you.... No seconds thoughts. I’ve decided...... Decided.... Past the point of no return, no going back now, our passion play has now at last begun! Past all thought of right or wrong! One final question: how long should we two wait before we’re one? When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us...’”

Emma licked her lips slightly. Again, the lyrics were stunning. Absolutely stunning. But god, those words! They were so.... No. Emma couldn’t even begin to explain what the words made her feel. But she did note that her palms had gone all damp again. And she was sure that she was blushing too. She was almost desperate to know when Regina had written this piece. And the fact that it was set up to a duet...

“Hrm, hrm..” 

Emma stiffened with the paper still in her hand. She slowly lifted her head and looked up. 

Regina was standing by the black curtain. Hair hanging freely down her back and the visible eyebrow slightly arched. She was wearing a black dress with a line of buttons down the front. She seemingly had no problem with multitasking, because while she was standing there and looking disapprovingly at Emma, she was also in the process of buttoning her dress over her chest. 

That made Emma feel so flustered that she had to look away. Seeing that much of Regina’s olive skin on display alarmed her. Though not in a remotely bad way. And seeing that much of Regina’s chest, well.... She was glad she had the opportunity to look away.

“Well, well,” Regina drawled, thereby forcing Emma to look back at her. “I think I have a guest.” She toyed lightly with another button before slipping it through the button hole. The thin, black material   
stretched out over her chest. Emma’s throat was as dry as a dessert.

“Miss Swan,” Regina lazily continued. “This in indeed an unparallel DElight.” The world ‘delight’ was said in a positively drawling manner and with extra pressure on the ‘de’. “I had rather hoped that you would come,” she continued, almost singsonging now. “And now, my wish came true. You have truly made my night.” 

Emma did not get insulted. She was used to Regina’s way of talking by now. 

Regina scoffed as she glanced at the paper still in Emma’s hand. “Such convoluted words for such a simple act, really.” with that she finished buttoning her dress and reached down. Only now Emma saw that there was in fact a bottle standing by Regina’s feet, and she raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Are you drunk?” she queried. 

“No,” Regina said dismissively and took one step forward. She nearly stumbled. “Oops.” 

Emma drew her own conclusion. Clearly, Regina was a little drunk tonight. 

“Do you have something for me?” Regina asked simply. 

Emma immediately let go of the paper and reached within her backpack. She found the two sandwiches and handed them to Regina. 

“Sandwiches,” Regina said, mouth twitching slightly. “How.... nice. Oh well. I suppose its eatable.”

“They’re actually really good,” Emma defended. 

Regina made another slight scoffing sound and took a solid swig of the bottle. “Oh, that’s better,” she announced as she unceremoniously sat down on the stone floor. “Come, Little Swan. I’m hungry.” 

Emma willingly went over to sit beside Regina. She handed her the two sandwiches. “There’s also two cookies.” 

“What did I tell you about making my teeth rot?” Regina scolded as she took a bite of the sandwich. She did not complain after having swallowed the first bite, so maybe it didn’t taste as foul as she had assumed. 

Emma glanced at the bottle standing next to Regina. “What are you drinking?” she asked without being completely sure where that came from. 

Regina merely scoffed. 

“Can I have a taste?” Emma asked. She definitely had NO idea where THAT came from. But she actually did want to taste. 

“You’re not old enough to drink,” Regina said dryly. 

“I don’t want to drink,” Emma protested. “I just want a little sip. Please?” 

Regina made a sound that almost could have been a snort. “So you come here to be corrupted now. Interesting.”

“You’re not corrupting me,” Emma argued. “You’re just giving me singing lessons. How can that be corrupting?” 

Regina did not answer that. Instead she nodded towards the bottle. “One sip. One.” 

Emma picked up the bottle and brought it up to her lips. She took a small sip and felt the alcohol burning her throat. It did not taste particularly good and she made a face after having swallowed. 

“That’ll teach you never to ask for a taste again, little girl,” Regina coldly laughed.

Emma ignored the insult even though it stung. “How can you drink this stuff? It tastes horrible!”

“It does,” Regina agreed without protesting. 

Emma frowned. “Then why are you drinking it?” 

“I like being drunk,” Regina said simply. “Makes things so much easier.” She took another bite of her sandwich. 

Emma mulled over that for a while. Then she asked: “what are we going to sing tonight?” 

“Sing?” Regina stared at the wall for a moment. “Oh yes...” 

“We don’t have to sing,” Emma said hastily. “We could do something else instead.” 

“Yes,” Regina nodded. “You’re quite right, Little Swan.” She ate the rest of the sandwich, took a solid swig of the horrible alcohol in the bottle, and then she began talking again: “so there I was, with one twisted ankle and only the clothes on my back, hobbling away from the burning house...” 

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. Regina was gonna continue the story now? Emma had almost given up hope about ever hearing the rest of the story. But now she was not quite sure how to feel about it. 

“You don’t have to tell me this now,” she interjected, glancing at the bottle. 

Regina half-laughed. “I prefer talking about while I’m drunk. Do you want to hear the story or not?” 

“Of course I do.”

“Then keep your mouth shut. There’s a good girl.” Regina took another solid swig of the bottle. “As I said, I was hobbling away from the burning house with a sprained ankle and only the clothes on my back. I did not really have a plan. But I had heard my mother speak so much of Lyon, so that was the first thing coming to mind. I knew that it was a long way to Lyon, my dear mother had told me as much, and I also knew that nobody in their right mind would ever give me a ride. I, the strange mask-wearing child with the dirty excuse for a dress and the hair smelling of smoke. So I started walking. And as I walked away, I heard the sirens from the firetrucks. I do not know who alarmed them, but I made sure to stay hidden so nobody would see me. I was well aware that my clothes immediately would give me away. At the time, the adrenalin was still pumping around in my body, and that gave me the strength to keep walking. I didn't think of anything except getting as far away as possible. I didn't really have a sense of direction or route, but I did remember which way Mother drove to get to Lyon, I was an intelligent child. So that was the direction I chose. But eventually, my strength faded. At this point, I had reached Malijai.”

Emma blinked. Malijai. That was four hour on foot! Had nine year old Regina walked for four HOURS on an injured foot?! God....

“As you can imagine, I was quite tired at this point,” Regina continued. “Tired enough to lay down in the nearest bush and fall asleep. But I knew that I could not do that. I did not want to draw any attention to myself. My intention was to give up at this point, but for once, fate was kind to me...” she barked out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “I hid behind a bush to rest for a while. I fell asleep. But I was awakened by the sound of a car arriving. It pulled up in front of one of the houses, and the driver jumped out of the car. He left the door to the driver’s seat wide open as he ran up to one of the houses. I figured out that he would come back soon, and that’s when I got an idea. I went over to the car, opened the boot of it and climbed inside. I was... quite thin at this point in time, so there was plenty of room for me in the boot of the car. I curled up and hoped that the man didn’t have to put anything away in the boot of the car. After a few minutes, I heard him come back. I barely dared breathing. I heard him open the door to the passenger seat and put something away. The door closed again. Then there was the sound of another door. I heard some shuffling as he climbed inside the car, and then we were suddenly moving. I didn’t know where we were going, but I could feel that we were going in the opposite direction I had come from. Not back to Provence. I was not even thinking about Lyon at this point. I just wanted to get away from my childhood home.” She paused and took another large swig of the bottle. 

And Emma tried to wrap her head around these new information real quickly. Regina had walked four hours on a sprained ankle to Malijai. She had hid in the boot of a car to get away. It sounded completely crazy, but of course Emma believed what Regina was saying. Every word of it. 

“I fell asleep,” Regina continued the tale. “Of course I did. When I woke up again, the car had stopped moving, so I opened the boot and peered out. I couldn’t see the man anywhere. It was still dark outside, but for whatever reason I had gotten it into my head that the man would find out that I was there. So I hopped out of the boot of the car and staggered away. The man had parked the car in front of a gas station, and I hid behind one of the stalls. And it turned out that my feeling was right. After a moment, the man came back and put something in the boot of the car. I dread to imagine what would have happened if I was still asleep by then. I waited until the car had left and then I drank some water from the tap sitting on the building. I also took the opportunity to clean up a bit, so I didn’t look like I had just escaped a fire.” Regina chuckled again. “I did have some sense, but I was nevertheless dumb enough to ask a woman what city I was in. She looked at me as though she had just seen a ghost and muttered ‘Voiron’. Then I asked how far away Lyon was, and she told me that it was an hour away. By car, of course. She then asked me where my ‘mommy and daddy’ was. I just smiled and told her that they would be here soon. I don’t know why lying came so easily to me already then. The woman disappeared. I was too scared to sneak into another car, so instead I went behind the gas station and went to sleep sitting leaned against the wall.”

Emma bit the inside of her cheek. She had no problem imagining little nine year old Regina with tangled hair and dirty clothes sleeping upright behind a gas station in a strange city. God, what a childhood!

“When I woke again, it was morning,” Regina continued. “And I was very, very hungry. And thirsty. But of course I did not have any money, so I went inside the gas station and used the bathroom to drink some water. When I came into the store itself again, the man behind the counter had disappeared, so I....” she rolled her eyes and traced her mask with the tip of a long finger. “Well, I stole some candy. I did know that stealing was wrong, but I did it anyway. I was too hungry not to do it.” 

Emma did not judge Regina one bit. She had been a child. A hungry, scared child. Of course she had stolen the candy. 

“I felt a bit more refreshed after having eaten the candy,” Regina recalled. “And my foot was doing better. So I started to walk again. Away from the gas station. I had never heard of Voiron before. I hadn’t even seen pictures of it before. I still wanted to go to Lyon, because I had heard my mother talk about the city. But again, I did not have any money. And I looked like a little rascal wearing that rag of a dress.” She snorted quietly. “Even nine year old girls who has never worn fine clothes can be vain. Perhaps that was the reason WHY I was vain. Anyway, at some point I made it to a shopping center. I had never been to one of those either, but I had seen so many movies that had malls in them. So inside I went. Despite the clothes I was wearing, it was very easy for me to blend in with the crowd. I thought the mall was some kind of paradise, and I ate as much as I possibly could without being discovered, and after having drifted around for a while, I made it to the clothing department. There I found a beautiful blue dress with white dots all over it. I had never owned such fine clothes before, and I knew right away that I wanted it. But what was I supposed to do? I did not have any money, and I was too scared to take it and run. I knew that I would be caught. And sent to jail. That’s what I thought happened to little girls who took things that didn’t belong to me. That’s what my mother had told me. And I of course did not know any better. Anyway, I was drifting around in the clothing department for a while when another stroke of luck happened. A man dropped his wallet on the ground almost right beside me. He did not notice, and nobody else picked it up, so of course I could not resist. I took the wallet. There was a bit of money in it. Not enough to make me rich, but enough to pay for the dress. So I bought it for the money in the man’s wallet. The cashier did not question it at all. Nobody did. I went into a dressing room and put the dress on right away. It was quite the special moment for me, Little Swan...” Regina shook her head and reached for the bottle but did not drink from it. “I actually felt pretty...” she chuckled darkly. “Because of a cheap dress in an even cheaper mall.” 

Emma opened her mouth and then closed it again. She was not supposed to interrupt, she remembered. She was supposed to stay quiet. She could not tell Regina that she WAS pretty. 

“I got a little reckless after having bought the dress,” Regina chuckled. “So I ended up buying some food for the money as well. Apples. Candy bars. And a loaf of bread. I was quite sensible. When I left the mall, there was still some money left in the wallet I had taken. I didn’t want to stay in Voiron. I didn’t know anything about it. To this day, I do not know why I was so fixated on Lyon, but I suppose that because Mother had mentioned the city so many times, it felt like I knew it. And I knew that it was very far away from Provence. I was scared that the police would find me and blame me for the fire. So I wanted to get as far away as I possibly could. And at the time, Lyon seemed like a different country. So I walked down the street and read all the signs to find a bus station. After a while I found one, and I asked a random man if he knew whether this bus drove to Lyon. He told me that it did and that it would arrive within a few minutes. I waited at the station with him, and when the bus arrived, I hopped aboard and bought a ticket to Lyon from the bus driver. He didn’t ask me any questions, but I remember that he did give me a strange look. I suppose he found it rather unusual that nine year olds took the bus on their own.” Regina paused and took a large swig of the bottle. After having swallowed the mouthful of alcohol, she continued: “I was tired but was afraid of going to sleep. I didn’t want to miss my stop. So I stayed awake until the bus arrived in Lyon. Let me tell you, Little Swan, I was flabbergasted-“ she chuckled dryly. “I had never seen anything like Lyon before. It felt like a paradise even more than Voiron had. I’m sure I attracted some stares as I walked around with my apples and the loaf of bread under my arm, but I did not care. I think I saw almost all of Lyon that day. The Museum of Fine Arts. The Fontaine Bartholdi. The rivers. Le Parc de la Tête d’Or. For someone who had only ever seen the inside of a house and a snippet or two of our old garden, this was absolutely overwhelming, and I almost didn’t know what to do with myself. I was elated. I could have screamed. It made so much sense that Mother kept going to Lyon during my childhood. To be perfectly honest, I was more surprised that she had come home again.” Another dark chuckle. “Eventually, I made it to an outdoor food market, and as you can imagine, I ate as much as I possibly could without drawing attention to myself. And nobody noticed the little mask-wearing girl in the blue dress. It was easy for me to blend in with the crowd. I cannot tell you for how long I walked around. You’d think I was tired, but the excitement of it all made me feel so alive and vibrant. Like I could have sprinted a thousand kilometers. But like with every other good thing, my energy ran out. Again.” 

She shook her head and made her dark curls bounce about her beautiful face. “Suddenly, I was so tired I could have collapsed right on the pavement. But I knew that I could not do that. So I walked away from the busy streets and back to the park I had found earlier. There were so many bushes and large trees there, and it was a fairly warm night. I crawled underneath one of the trees and curled up. I slept under the stars that night....” she seemed to trail off. Her dark eyes became unfocused. 

Emma wanted to touch her. So badly. Her heart was breaking for little Regina who had escaped a deadly fire, snuck into the boot of a car, gone to Lyon all on her own, stolen food and money in order to survive and then slept in a park by the end of it all. All alone. And only nine years old. 

“Now you know how I got to Lyon,” Regina said, snapping back in reality. “I did many unlikely things in order to survive at first. I wandered the streets during the day and stole at every given opportunity. I snuck into people’s houses and found an empty spot to sleep in during the night. Sometimes the people living there caught a glimpse of me, but they never managed to catch me. I was always too fast. And its hard to catch a culprit in Lyon. And especially if the culprit happens to be a child. It was hard, but it was still better than the life I’d had with Mother. And later I found out that I didn’t have to steal. I could make money by singing in the square. People always gathered whenever I sang. And they paid me richly. I guess they were taken by me. I didn’t even have to hypnotize them. Just sing.” Regina sighed. “It was such an easy way for a child to make money. It was before I grew older and people started to want.... other things from me in exchange for money.” A dark shadow flickered across her face, and she took a large swig of the bottle. 

“How did you end up in Paris?” Emma asked before she could stop herself. 

Regina was not phased by the interruption. “Somehow, time passed while I was in Lyon. I grew taller and older, and if you can believe it, I wanted to go somewhere else. One day, two years after I came to Lyon, I believe, I saw a woman cross the square. She was dressed in the finest clothes I had ever seen. She looked like a queen. An empress. I followed her for a while and watched as she met up with a friend. The friend complimented her beautiful clothes, and the woman said that she had bought it all in Paris. Exactly like with Lyon, it was like a light switch had been flipped on inside me. I had never been to Paris before, I just knew that I had to go there. Although I had made money by singing for people, they just as easily disappeared. I was growing out of my clothes rapidly, and I was more or less constantly hungry. A side effect from my childhood, I’m sure. Mother never was very good at feeding me. I could not afford going to Paris, and I did not fit inside the boot of a car any longer. But once again, I was lucky. One day I ran into a group of travelers. Entertainers. Musicians. They were packing up their things just as I arrived. I asked them where they were going and they tried to chase me away, of course. But I was stubborn. I asked them again. And again. Finally, one of them snapped that they were going to Paris. And then he asked me to fuck off. Which I did not. Instead I asked if they needed a singer. They all laughed at me. Mocked me as they encouraged me to ‘please do sing for us’, but I assure you, the joke was on them when I opened my mouth and started singing,” Regina laughed darkly at the memory. “Suddenly, I was more than welcome to come to Paris with them. And I took the opportunity. They were strangers, but I didn’t care at the time.” She sighed. “That recklessness ended up costing me dearly later on...” 

“What happened?” Emma asked with baited breath. 

Regina gave her a look. “That is not a story for right now, Little Swan. I’ve told you plenty already.” 

“Will you tell me the rest of the story later?” Emma asked softly. 

“Perhaps,” Regina mused. “If I don’t have anything better to do than walking back and forward in the lair...” she chuckled to herself. 

“Speaking of walking,” Emma said upon tearing herself away from Regina’s shocking life story. “Were you in the hallway last night?” 

“No,” Regina said and raised an eyebrow. “Why on earth would I do that?”

Emma shrugged. “I just thought I heard someone walking around in the hallway outside my room last night. I already asked my friends, and it wasn’t any of them, so I figured that maybe you-“

“What time was this?” Regina interrupted, putting the bottle aside and suddenly looking VERY sober.

“Around three, I think,” Emma answered. “Why?”

Regina did not answer that. “And how did these footsteps sound?” 

Emma shrugged again. “Sort of heavy, I guess.” 

Regina’s hands curled into tight fists. Her knuckles went white and her dark eyes gleamed. Which looked quite dangerous against the white mask. “Is that the first time that happens?”

“Yes,” Emma said confused. Why was Regina so alarmed by this? 

“If that happens again,” Regina said slowly. “Then I want you to tell me. Immediately. Is that clear?” 

“I- yes. Of course. But... why?”

“Because I am not letting this happen again,” Regina said firmly and grabbed the bottle. She squeezed it hard. 

“Happen again?” Emma repeated. “Regina, what are you talking about?” 

But Regina merely shook her head and did not answer. 

“Regna...” Emma pleaded. “Please tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Nothing,” Regina said dismissively. “Merely that you are my protégé, Little Swan. And I am the ghost in the opera. It is my simple duty to make sure that everything is as it should be.”

“You’re not a ghost,” Emma immediately protested. “And that’s not the whole truth, is it?”

Regina did not answer that either. “Sing for me,” she quietly beckoned instead. 

Accepting that she would not anymore information about her childhood nor her strange statement, Emma quickly searched her brain for something she could sing. She ended up choosing one of the   
pieces Regina had composed: “’Angel of Music, guide, and guardian, grand to me your glory... Angel of Music, hide no longer, come to me, strange Angel....’”

“Flattering child,” Regina half-scolded before jokingly singing back in that low, velvet soft voice that made Emma’s skin tingle. “’I am your Angel of Music..... Come to me, Angel of Music....’”

And Emma smiled at the masked woman who truly was her guide and guardian. Her Angel of Music.... 

To Be Continued.......


	30. The World Showed No Compassion To Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: 
> 
> It's super important that you read this! This chapter is super heavy! Trigger warning for attempted rape of a minor + trigger warning for murder!

”So what happened after you went to Paris with the travelers?” Emma asked once she had sung for a while. 

Regina opened her eyes and Emma immediately felt a little guilty for interrupting her relaxation. But she was just so curious. She desperately wanted to hear the rest of the story. Regina’s story. 

“Isn’t this normally the point where you scuttle off, Little Swan?” Regina lazily drawled and absentmindedly tapped a long finger against the edge of her white half-mask. 

“I don’t think anyone is missing me,” Emma said and shrugged lightly. 

One of Regina’s well-sculpted brow lifted, and she tapped the mask again. “That’s very dark of you, Little Swan,” she observed. 

“I just meant nobody is typically looking for me right now,” Emma clarified. 

“It’s late,” Regina said flatly. 

“And yet you don’t seem like you’re about to go to bed,” Emma said. The next second she had no idea where she got that kind of sass from. It wasn’t like her. 

“I sleep during the day,” Regina dismissed. 

“Like a vampire.” More sass. More unfiltered words popping out of her mouth. Emma was horrified at her suddenly so bold attitude. If she wasn’t careful, she could end up getting herself in trouble one of these days. 

But Regina merely scoffed. “Vampires don’t exist, Little Swan.” 

“Neither do ghosts,” Emma softly retorted. Because Regina had referred to herself as a ghost so many times.

“Don’t they?” Regina asked neutrally and looked at the wall. “What about the ghosts in people’s head, then. Don’t they exist either, Little Swan?” 

Emma didn’t know which answer to give. But she did know that she didn’t want to leave Regina quite yet. Not when she seemed to be slipping back into that state of melancholia Emma so often found her in. She didn’t want Regina to feel or look sad. But anything she said wouldn’t be enough to bring Regina out of this state, she knew that. So she used the second option. The one that had worked before.   
‘Think of me,’, she quietly sang. ‘Think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye... Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you’ll try... When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me...’

The intention behind the singing worked. Regina smiled. A teeny tiny smile, but nevertheless a smile. She even let go of the bottle and started moving her hands to silently encourage Emma to go on. 

And Emma kept singing. She did so love this song. Because it was the first song Regina ever had taught her. Because it marked something for her. The moment Regina truly started to see her as her protégé. 

When she was done singing, Regina looked quite satisfied. She nodded slightly and said: “good. You are starting to master your technique, Little Swan.”

“Because of you,” Emma dared saying. “You’re the one who taught me everything I know.”

“And your other teachers?” Regina asked skeptically. “Do they not teach you anything?” 

“Of course they do,” Emma said quickly. “But they’re not as good as you.”

“Of course they’re not,” Regina said simply. 

Emma chuckled a little. 

Regina fell silent for a little while. She didn’t sip alcohol from the bottle any longer. She only stared at the wall. Looked thoughtful. And still slightly melancholic. But this time Emma did not sing. She simply let Regina have her moment of silence. Silence was okay. As long as the Phantom didn’t ask Emma to leave the lair. She wasn’t ready to leave yet. In fact, leaving the lair after an ended lesson was getting harder and harder each time. Emma felt more and more reluctant to say goodbye and leave. She was starting to wish for silly things. Like.... that she should spend the entire night in the lair just sitting quietly and watching as Regina composed. Perhaps talk a bit, but it wasn’t essential. They didn’t have to talk all the time. Emma was more than fine with just sitting and listening and observing for a longer period of time. As long as she could stay in the lair. Sometimes she also wished that Regina would come to HER. Come to her room like she had done a few times. Borrow her bathroom again. She was more than welcome to do that. Emma wouldn’t mind. And she would try NOT to think about Regina showering. Really, she had to get that side of herself under control. The stupid, silly schoolgirl crush she had on Regina was starting to get to her. She felt so ridiculous. So childish. And with one last sensible thought in her head. Regina could never ever know about this. She would most likely either laugh in Emma’s face or scoff at her in that unimpressed manner she always did when she found Emma to be particularly ridiculous. 

And Emma was a girl. Only seventeen. While Regina was... a woman. A proper adult. And no matter how hard she tried, Emma still could not match that. The eye makeup, the lipstick... it was all an illusion. 

She so wanted to be like Regina. Wanted to be a ‘proper’ woman so there was a chance that Regina would start to see her as one, but she wasn’t sure how to do it. She wasn’t sure how to be anything but Emma Swan from the small town who didn’t know nearly as much as Regina did. 

Emma unconsciously fluffed up her hair. Tried not to get all upset with herself. 

“So you want to know about my time in Paris,” Regina said at last.

“Yes,” Emma replied. More than anything, she wanted to know all there was to know about Regina. 

“And if I tell you that it is not a pleasant story either?” Regina asked simply. “If I tell you that too is a dark tale?” 

“I can take it,” Emma said immediately. 

Regina measured her from head to toe. “Can you indeed? I don’t want to frighten you.”

“Frighten me?” Emma echoed. “I’m not frightened, Regina.”

“But you might be before I’m done with my story.”

Emma tilted her head. “Frightened of what, exactly?” 

”Of me,” Regina said darkly. 

“You?” Emma was sure she had heard that wrong. “Impossible. I could never be frightened of you, Regina.” 

Regina laughed without any real amusement in her voice. “Says the same girl who passed out because she saw my mask.”

Emma blushed. “I’ve apologized for that.” But nevertheless, she would always feel embarrassed about her ridiculous schoolgirl faint. 

“I’m aware,” Regina said smoothly, brushing off Emma’s retort. “So you’re certain that you won’t be afraid of me when I’ve told you the story?” 

“Yes!” Emma said firmly. 

Regina smiled sinisterly. “We’ll see about that, Little Swan. We’ll see. Perhaps you’ll run out of here screaming never to return. If that’s the case, I’ll tell you that it’s been oddly nice to spend time with you.” 

Emma opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, Regina started speaking again: “the journey to Paris was made in an old and rusty minibus that barely was big enough to fit all of us. I was sitting in the very back while the strangers were sitting at the front. I was a bit unsure of everything. Paris was something that had been on my mind for quite a while, but I was weary of the people I was travelling with. As you can imagine, trusting strangers did not come easily to me...”

No, Emma could so very easily imagine that. And she could also easily imagine eleven year old Regina, big-eyed and gangly curling up on a seat in a mini-bus.

“It was a long drive,” Regina continued. “Almost five hours, but I was grateful that I was in a vehicle and not walking again. I was grateful for the ride, even if it was in a bus full of strangers. I did not know anything about these people except that they performed for money. And liked my singing. At the time, that was the only thing I needed to know. Or at least I thought so. There were three women. Claudette, Eloise, and Michelle. Claudette was old, sixty I believe, and could tell a person’s future simply by looking at their palm. Or so she said..” Regina allowed herself to scoff and look skeptical before continuing. “Michelle was younger. Thirty or perhaps in her late twenties. She played the violin and always carried a doll with her wherever she went. She was the one who earned the most money of the group. Eloise was the youngest. She couldn’t have been older than twenty. She was the singer amongst them. But I quickly understood that she also did other things after dark in order to make money. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Emma settled for a nod. Yes, she was quite aware what Regina meant. She didn’t need any other details on how Eloise earned her money. 

“And there were four men,” Regina continued. “Gardar who scoffed whenever you spoke but could twist his body into impossible positions. Really, it was quite the unnerving sight to see. Pascal who didn’t utter a word but was a rather terrific mimer and silent actor. Jacques, the grandfather of the group who enjoyed reading the papers Eloise stole and who could turn guitar music into something extraordinary. And Sébastien, the leader of the group. His eyes were as black as charcoal and his voice just so. He had the ability to show up seemingly out of nowhere. That was his talent. Amongst other things. He was a magician of sorts. But his real gift was his ability to hypnotize people. The softness of his voice could make you fall into a trance like state. I saw him perform. He could make anyone do anything. Squawk like a chicken or simply fall asleep if that was what he wanted. A terribly talented man he was. But all talented people have some kind of flaw as well..” Regina brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “It was a strange cluster of people I was travelling with. All of them had left their homes in some sort of way. Escaped. Claudette had been unable to pay the rent and had been tossed out of her apartment. She had been homeless and lived by begging until she met Sébastien. He had given her a meal and offered her to come with him. She was the first member of his group of strange individuals. Next was Michelle. Claudette was the one to tell me her story. Her life had been quite normal. Almost picture perfect. She had been married. Had a house somewhere in the suburbs. She had been quite a successful violinist. Her career had been at its highest when she got pregnant with her first child. I believe that she was quite far along when she suffered a miscarriage. She suffered a breakdown after that. Discharged herself from the hospital and wandered about the streets for days until Sébastien and Claudette came upon her. They took her in. Gave her a blanket and a hot meal and the offer to come with them. Michelle couldn’t bear to go back to her old life, so she accepted the offer. She never spoke of her husband or the child she had lost. But she was a very kind woman as long as you never touched her doll. That was her baby.” Regina shook her head. “That poor woman. Sometimes I find myself thinking about her. I hope she returned to her husband.” The Phantom looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing: “Next came Pascal. I’m not sure where he came from, to be honest. He never uttered a word. He preferred using gestures for his language. I don’t know why he never spoke, but I’m sure he had his reasons. Today I’m wondering if he even was capable of speaking. I should have asked him directly. Eloise came after him. She was merely tired of her life and her boring parents who disapproved of everything she said or did. When Sébastien showed up and asked her if she wanted to see the world, I don’t think it took her long to decide her answer. Her poor parents.” Regina clicked her tongue. “Gardar and Jacques followed next. Gardar was certain he was ‘made for finer things’, and so he went with Sébastien. Jacques had lost his wife after forty years of marriage and was ready to follow her. Sébastien and the others came upon him on a bridge. He would have died if it wasn’t for them. So you see, we all had our reasons to follow him.” 

Emma nodded. “And... And Sébastien? Where did he come from?” 

“I don’t know,” Regina said and did not look angry over the interruption. “I truly don’t. He never told me. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“He had his reasons too,” Emma guessed. 

“Quite right. But I have a nasty feeling that Sébastien was running away from something far darker than any of us,” Regina said grimly. Her fingers opened and closed as though she was wrapping them around the neck of a bottle to lift it and take a sip. But the bottle was lying several feet away from her, and she made no attempt at grabbing it. 

Emma waited patiently for Regina to start talking again. Her eyes hung at Regina’s lips. Regina had a certain way of telling stories. A certain way of spellbinding her audience. Much like when she was singing... 

“Arriving in Paris was something quite... extraordinary,” Regina picked up the story. “I had never seen the Eiffel Tower except for on television, and I’m sure I looked quite ridiculous with my mouth hanging open, but I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. And for each moment I grew more and more angry with my mother for having kept me away from such beauty.” She sighed. “I believe the others found me to be adorably naïve. But that was only until later that evening where Sébastien asked me to tell my story. I willingly confided in a bunch of strangers. Who else did I have? I told them everything. The abuse I had suffered at my mother’s hand. The isolation. The fire. How I had escaped and walked on a battered ankle. How I had stolen my way to Lyon and kept stealing in order to survive. Claudette cried when I was done, and I believe I earned the others respect that night. I was no longer just a stupid kid who needed a ride. I was like them. A ‘survivor’..” Regina laughed grimly and shook her head.   
“That’s how it is with weed, Little Swan. Crush it with a rock, and I assure you, it’ll keep growing anyway.”

“You are not weed,” Emma mumbled. 

Regina ignored that and continued her tale: “Of course the most natural thing for my newfound friends was to ask about my mask. Why was I wearing it, and what was hiding underneath it? I didn’t tell them. Nor did I show them. And they quickly learned that asking wouldn’t lead to anything. I know that most of them believed that I had been injured in the fire. I didn’t correct them.” 

Emma felt her own curiosity rear its head. She would lie if she denied to ever having thought about what was under Regina’s mask. But she had decided long ago that she would never ask. Never.

“As strange as it seems, my life actually became somewhat stabile when I was with them. I knew what my day would look like. Knew what I could count on. We never stayed for long in the same place, but we never strayed outside Paris either. There was plenty of places to visit. Plenty of places where you could park a minibus. Sébastien was very good at finding all the best squares where one could entertain. Sometimes the musicians in the group performed together, but often we each had a day where we were the ones to perform and entertain. And earn money. Michelle could spellbind an audience with her violin. Eloise was popular because of her looks and her steady voice. People were equally skeptic and interested when Claudette told them their future. Gardar equally unnerved and fascinated the crowd when he twisted his body into impossible positions. Pascal made people laugh when he stood still and looked like a statue but then suddenly moved. He was a glorious actor. Jacques was mostly given money out of pity. And Sébastien.... he could keep his audience sitting in a chair for hours and hours. Fast asleep until the moment he decided to wake them. But as popular as he was, he was beat by the newest member of the group...” Regina’s mouth curled into a slight smile. 

“You,” Emma said softly. 

“Me,” Regina confirmed with a nod. “You could hear a pin drop on the square when I sang. Everyone hushed and listened with their mouths hanging open. I could make people shed tears of sadness when I sang. Or make them laugh and cheer when I occasionally ventured into more happy songs. Either way, the rumor was proceeding me, and when the minibus showed up in a new place, there were people gathering around it two seconds later. All of them asking for the ‘little girl with the breathtaking voice’. That rumor was soon the cause for jealousy in our odd little group. Eloise was particularly unhappy about my popularity, but Sébastien was delighted. He called me his ‘nightingale’. His ‘goldmine’. And he was present for every single one of the performances I gave. I was making twice the amount of money the rest of the group was making, and I was so happy about finally doing something right. I can understand the audience’s fascination. A little girl wearing a mask. Doesn’t look all that much when standing still. But then she opens her mouth and starts singing and brings every assumption made about her to shame.” Regina shifted, rose to her full height and crossed the lair. 

Emma immediately grew worried. Surely, Regina wouldn’t stop the story now, would she? She almost couldn’t bear waiting to hear the rest! Months had passed since Regina had picked up her story, and the idea of waiting two or three more months was terrible!

But Regina did not stop talking. “However odd it sounds...” she said as she picked up her feather cloak and draped it around her shoulders. “My life was good. As close to perfect as it could possibly be. I enjoyed travelling and seeing every corner of Paris. I enjoyed singing and seeing people smile when I did so. I liked that people knew me. If not by name then by my voice. And most of all, I liked to BE liked and not rebuffed and pushed away like Mother had. I was popular. In the group and among the crowd. It felt like I had gained everything I could possibly ask for. And I had seen and experienced so many things when I was just eleven.” Regina pulled the cloak a little tighter over her shoulders. “The regular meals did me well, and I soon started to grow. Both taller and wider. It was very odd to suddenly have meat on my bones..” she chuckled dryly. “I had never tried that before. I was used to being the scrawly kid. I grew and so did my voice. You often hear about children who loses the ability to sing when they hit puberty. That was not the case for me. My voice only continued to mature and grow richer. Deeper. My voice was quite light when I was a child. Almost as light as yours, Little Swan.”

“Really?” Emma found it hard to believe that Regina’s rich and deep mezzo soprano had ever been anything but that. 

“Oh yes indeed,” Regina confirmed with a slight chuckle before resuming her story: “As my voice and body grew, so did my mind. I paid even more attention to my fellow travelers, and I learned things from all of them. Claudette taught me... well, she taught me to lie better.” Regina chuckled again. “All her stories when she looked at people’s palms were so convincing, and I learned to be just as convincing in my lies. Michelle taught me how to play the violin. Eloise taught me to use my entire body when I sang. Gardar taught me to look positively unimpressed. Jacques... taught me to keep just an ounce of kindness in me. Pascal thought me the importance of silence. And Sébastien.... Well, he gave me the most valuable lesson of them all. He taught that sometimes you have to do the impossible in order to survive.” 

“How?” Emma asked softly. 

Regina measured her from head to toe once again. “Are you truly sure you want to know, Little Swan? This is your last chance to back out.” 

“I want to know,” Emma said immediately. “I want to know your story.” 

“Very well,” Regina said, dark eyes flickering. “But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

Emma waited with baited breath. Her stomach did an uncomfortable flipflop. What could possibly be worse than the things Regina already had been through? The abuse she had suffered at her mother’s hand. The fire. Learning to fend for herself in a big city at only nine years old. What more could Regina possibly have gone through? 

“As time passed, I started to consider these odd bunch of travelers my family,” Regina picked up where she left off. “I grew. Turned twelve. Then thirteen. And fourteen. At least that’s my guess. I was quite tall at that point, so fourteen is a fairly safe bet. Claudette gifted me with a mask that fitted me a little better. I’ve liked her design ever since.” Regina touched her white half-mask again. “She taught me to make my own too. I’ll always be grateful for that.” She cleared her throat. “But a few months after I had turned fourteen, everything suddenly changed one night. We had set up ‘camp’ on a rest spot somewhere in Paris. The rest of the group had gone into the city to perform as they usually did, but I had decided to hang back that night. I don’t even remember why. Perhaps I was just tired. But either way I was alone in the minibus and half-asleep when Sébastien came in. He sat down on the seat next to me and started small talking like he always did. I don’t think we talked about anything in particular and I remember asking him if he maybe could leave so I could get some sleep. Travelling was always so tiring for all of us. But he didn’t leave. Instead he asked me if I was happy to be traveling with them. With him. Of course I said yes. Although it was a strange life unlike any other life, it was the happiest I had been. Sébastien said that he was very happy to have me there too. I think I teased him a bit about the money I was earning by singing. I was proud. But he didn’t share my amusement. Instead he started talking about how tall I had grown, and how I was ‘starting to look like a young woman’.” 

Emma felt the bile rise in her throat, and she got a sinking feeling in her stomach at the turn Regina’s story was taking. 

“That’s when he suddenly touched me,” Regina said quietly and glanced down at her right thigh. “He told me that he was thinking about me all the time and that I was driving him crazy. I didn’t understand what he meant by that, but I did know that it felt wrong when he touched me. I asked him to stop, but he didn’t. Instead he grabbed my leg harder and asked if I really was going to deny him now. After all the things he had done for me. Taken me in when I had nowhere else to go. He was right. If he hadn’t said that I could go with him and the group to Paris, I am not certain what would have become of me...”

Emma swallowed thickly. If Regina was about to tell her that she had been assaulted by Sébastien when she was fourteen years old, Emma would start crying. Howling like an injured animal. 

“He kissed me,” Regina said tonelessly. “I froze for a moment because I still didn’t understand what was going on. What he was trying to do. I had learned long ago that adults could beat children, but I had never even entertained the thought that adults could have other intentions with children too. Awfully naïve of me, I know. But I was still young enough to have some optimism left. But that optimism disappeared when Sébastien started to yank at my clothes. He tore it open here...” Regina pointed to the black fabric covering her chest. “And that’s when I finally woke from my frozen state. I started yelling and kicking. I managed to push him off of me. I was not a scrawly little kid anymore, but he was still stronger than I was, so when I jumped off the seat and ran towards the door to get out, he grabbed my arm and spun me around. I couldn’t recognize the leader of our little group when he looked at me. I couldn’t recognize the man who had entertained us with all his stories during the evenings in the mini bus. That man was gone and had been replaced with a monster. He called me all kinds of things that night and told me that I was an ungrateful little brat. That this was the least I could do after all the things he had done for me. He pushed me onto the floor. Gave me two options. Quick and easy or difficult and painful. The choice was mine, he said. And while I ‘decided’, he wanted to see me, he said. All of me. He tore off my mask. And exactly like the others who had seen my face, he jerked backwards in terror. Called me a monster. Oh, how right he was. My mind was completely clear, and I realized that if I let this happen one time... it would happen again and again and again. He would never let me go. I had already been someone’s prisoner once, and I refused to become another’s. So I took advantage of his state of shock and got on my feet. Like with my mother’s friend, I was hoping that the sight of me would be enough to send him running. But he didn’t give up. He said that he didn’t have to look at my face to do this. My body was enough. Then he came charging at me again so fast I could barely get the chance to blink before he was touching me again. He pushed me back onto the floor and started tearing at my clothes again, and I had.... accepted that he was going to do this to me when I saw something laying on the floor right next to me. A rope he had used for one of his magic tricks earlier. I managed to get a hold of it. Sébastien was so busy tearing at my clothes that he didn’t notice. I don’t know why he didn’t think of holding my wrists. Perhaps he didn’t think he needed to because he was so much stronger than I. He truly was, but I had a rope, and he didn’t.” Regina swallowed. She was still looking at her leg rather than looking at Emma. “I managed to get the rope around his neck, and it was like something inside me snapped. I was so angry at this double betrayal. First he had snatched the image I’d had of him as my mentor, the only adult person I had ever looked up to, and then he had taken off my mask. Oddly enough, I didn’t even think of what he was about to do to me although I was starting to realize exactly WHAT he wanted from me. It was like I couldn’t wrap my head around that. So I was only angry at him for childish reasons. For not being the man I had thought he was. And for removing my mask when he once had sworn that he never would as much as ask about it. Again, childish reasons. What is a broken promise even? People breaks promises all the time. But at the time, I still had a clear image of justice in my head, and I was so, so angry! That anger filled me and made me more stronger than I ever could have imagined. While he struggled with the rope, I got up. I managed to get behind him and kept tightening the rope even though he coughed and gagged and clawed at it with both his hands. There was a darkness in my mind, and all I could think of was how he had betrayed me. I didn’t stop until he stopped struggling. Stopped doing... anything. He fell to the floor completely limply, and it was only then my anger subsided and I realized that he wasn’t moving at all. Then I realized that he wasn’t breathing either, and I knew that I had done something horrible.” 

Regina turned her head and looked at Emma. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, Little Swan? Do you understand what kind of monster I am now? I killed him!”

“You’re NOT a monster,” Emma rasped with a voice that was barely audible and tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re not! He would’ve.... If you hadn’t, he would have...” she couldn’t even finish the sentence. It could just as well have been Regina’s life that had ended that night. Instead Sébastien had been the one to perish. Regina had killed him, yes, but it sounded like an accident. A frightened child only trying to make a grown man stop hurting her. What kind of fourteen year old would be thinking straight in a situation like the one Regina had been in that night?

Emma wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of her. Murder was wrong. Of course it was. But what other choices had Regina had that night? The alternative was unbearable to think about. 

“I know,” Regina said quietly. “But does that make it any less wrong? I took another human being’s life. I made myself the judge over life and death that night...” 

“He would have harmed you,” Emma whispered. “What else could you have-“ 

“I ran,” Regina interrupted her. “Well, first I took the money I had earned by singing, then I put on my mask and then I ran as fast as I could. I lost track of how long, but eventually I made it to some of the apartments where clothes were hanging to dry so low you could easily snatch it. And that was what I did. I nicked a pair of men’s trousers of a shirt and changed out of the torn dress in an alley. After that   
I drifted around and just thought about what had happened. I reached the conclusion that it was all my fault.”

Emma immediately opened her mouth to protest, but Regina beat her to it: “I was fourteen, Little Swan. A child. Sébastien was the adult. The responsible one. I thought that something I had said or done somehow had given him the right and privilege. And the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that it was all Regina’s fault.” 

“I don’t understand,” Emma said quietly and interrupted all though she wasn’t supposed to. 

Regina did not get angry, though. She simply shook her head a little. “You’re forgetting that I had lived my life as two people, Little Swan. First Erik and then Regina. Erik was the child my mother had wanted me to do. And Regina was the person I wanted to be. But not anymore. I thought and I thought, and it didn’t take me long to conclude that this never would have happened to Erik. If I had continued to be the boy my mother had wanted me to be, this never would have happened. Sébastien wouldn’t have become ‘tempted’ by my body. I never wanted to find myself in a similar situation to the one I had been in that night..... So I decided to become Erik again.” 

“How.. How so?” Emma asked. Her voice trembled. 

“In the most simple way, really,” Regina replied. “I wandered about the city for a while until I got to a restaurant. I took a table knife from one of the outside tables. No one noticed that I had taken it. Then I went inside and slipped into the bathroom. In there I cleaned the scratches Sébastien had made when he clawed at me. And then I cut off my long hair. Now Regina was gone and there was only Erik left.   
The name I once had despised was now the only name I could dream of using. Being Regina was too much of a risk. Or so I felt. I came into the restaurant as Regina and left as Erik. And that’s how I remained for a long, long time. I dressed only in male clothing and used bandages to hide my figure. I had changed, but my circumstances hadn’t. Not really. Despite having spent two years with the group of travelers, it wasn’t difficult for me to go back to living like I had in Lyon. Stealing. Sleeping wherever I could. And singing. All I had to do was sing in a slightly darker octave than I usually did. Nobody ever suspected a thing. Everyone who heard me sing thought that I was a young man. And I did attract quite the crowd as Erik too. I missed wearing dresses, and I missed my long hair, but I didn’t want to risk ‘tempting’ anyone. Being Erik felt a lot safer at the time.” Regina brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and her dark gaze flickered slightly for a moment. Then she spoke again with a naked honesty that didn’t just sound like she was reading up from a moderately boring story. “Things were... very difficult for me afterwards. That’s when I started to...” she didn’t finish the sentence. Instead she glanced down at her bare arms. 

Emma shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of the many scars on Regina’s skin. Perhaps she couldn’t see them right now because of the way Regina’s arms were positioned, but she knew that they were there, and that was enough. She outstretched a hand and put it lightly over Regina’s. Where did she get that kind of courage from? 

Of course Regina quickly moved her hand away from under Emma’s. She brought it up to fiddle with a stray curl by her ear instead. “I don’t know what happened to the others I was travelling with,” she continued, voice now stripped of that vulnerability Emma had detected a moment ago. “I suppose the group dissolved when they found Sébastien dead. I don’t think anyone of them ever tried to find me. Why would they? None of them were stupid. I’m sure they could easily deduce what had happened.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Emma said immediately. 

Regina did not answer that. “The more time passed, the more I started to realize that Sébastien wasn’t just some good Samaritan who had saved us. He was also the person who decided where we should go next, who did what and he was also in charge of our money. I think he was manipulating with us in many ways. A shame I didn’t realize it earlier. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble. But I learned a valuable lesson. That you can’t always trust somebody. And that it often is best to be on your own.” She fiddled with a lock of her long hair again. “I went back to breaking into people’s homes to sleep. That was necessary. And I got away with it. Until Nadir Khan discovered me in his basement one night.” 

“And who is Nadir Khan?” Emma asked. She remembered that she had heard that name before. 

“Just another person whose life I ruined,” Regina said grimly. “But that’s a story for another time, Little Swan. Right now it’s time for you to go bed.” with that she rose from the floor and extended her hand out towards Emma. 

Emma willingly accepted the hand the Phantom of the Opera held out towards her. Regina’s hand felt very cold, but Emma did not even flinch. She couldn’t when Regina was touching her. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said to Regina’s back as she lead Emma out of the lair. 

Regina stopped and her hand tightened slightly around Emma’s fingers. “Not the fact that he came to me with malicious intentions,” she said slowly. “But wrapping a rope around his neck and continue to tighten it until he went still... That was a choice that I made. I CHOOSE to kill him, Little Swan. I took that man’s life. I could have stopped when he started to gasp for air, but I did not. Do you not think that’s my fault either?” 

“I-“ Emma wasn’t sure what to answer. She wasn’t sure how to explain to Regina that there hadn’t been many other solutions. Who said that Sébastien wouldn’t have hunted her down if she had simply run away instead of doing what she did? 

“I’m a cold blooded killer,” Regina said dully. “And yet you haven’t run away or tried to pull your hand out of my grasp. Why?” 

“Because I am not afraid of you,” Emma said simply. “And I don’t consider you to be a coldblooded killer either.”

“You shouldn’t have so much faith in me,” Regina murmured as she released Emma’s hand again. “I... destroy everything I touch.” 

“I refuse to believe that,” Emma said softly. She really, truly did. And she could never perceive Regina as a coldblooded killer. She saw a woman who carried a tragic past and an overwhelming sadness with her. But not a killer.

“That is a mistake,” Regina answered equally soft. 

They had reached the passageway that lead back to the hidden hole behind the mirror in Emma’s room, and Emma stopped abruptly when she realized something. “You’re walking with me tonight.”

“Yes,” Regina said simply.

“Why?” Emma asked. Not that she minded, god no, but she was surprised. Regina didn’t usually walk her back. 

“Because it’s so easy to get lost,” Regina answered and gathered her cloak around her. “Keep up.”

Emma started walking again, jogging to keep up. “But I’ve walked here so many times already,” she slightly breathlessly pointed out. 

Regina did not answer that. In fact she didn’t say anything before they reached the back of the mirror. 

Despite the long period of time they had spent together, Emma still felt reluctant to leave the Phantom of the Opera. She shifted and stalled, knowing that there was literally nothing keeping her here.   
“Well,” she said and fiddled with her fingers. “I guess I should... get some sleep?” for some reason, it came out as a question. 

Regina nodded. 

“Good... Goodnight,” Emma murmured and prepared to push the mirror aside so she could slip through the hidden hole behind it. 

“Will you do something for me?” Regina asked suddenly. 

Emma turned around so fast she had nearly stumbled. “Anything,” she promised in a heartbeat and immediately regretted it. Suppose Regina for some way would ask her to stay away from the lair? 

“Keep your door locked at night,” Regina said and flicked the cloak, so her right shoulder was bared. 

Emma tilted her head. “Okay,” she murmured. “But.. why?” 

“Because... I’m asking you to,” Regina said. It could have been a command, but her voice was too soft for it to even sound the littlest bit like an order. 

“Okay,” Emma promised. “I will.” 

“Good,” Regina said. Then she lifted her hand. Brought it so close to Emma’s cheek she could almost have touched it, but at the very last moment, she stopped and let her hand hover in the air instead. “I   
destroy everything I touch,” she murmured again. 

“I don’t believe that,” Emma said gently. Her next action was either incredibly stupid. Or incredibly bold. She leaned in so her cheek connected with the back of Regina’s hand.

Regina didn’t flinch or scold her. She simply brushed the back of her hand against Emma’s cheek. From her temple and to the corner of her mouth. 

Emma shivered from head to toe and was so, so close to do something else that was either incredibly bold or stupid. Turn her head so her lips fully connected with Regina’s palm. But she didn’t do it. She could only stand there, rooted to the spot and wish that this moment would never end. 

But of course it did. “Now go,” Regina said simply though not unkindly. She dropped her hand. 

Emma stumbled forward on weak legs and was dumb enough to ask: “did you hypnotize me?” 

“No, Little Swan.” Regina laughed just with a tad of coldness to it. “If I had hypnotized you, you wouldn’t be in any doubt.” 

Emma swallowed something. “Is that something... Do you think you would ever-“

“You WANT me to hypnotize you?” Regina asked and for once seemed dumbstruck for a moment. 

Emma flushed. “I just... I’m just curious. That’s all.”

“And if I tell you that you won’t be the same person afterwards?” Regina asked and only sounded partially joking.

Emma lifted her chin and said nothing. Didn’t want to tell Regina that she hadn’t been the same person after she met the Phantom of the Opera. She hoped that the look in her eyes was determined, though. 

And perhaps it was. Because Regina chuckled and said: “we’ll see, Little Swan. We shall see. But now it’s time for you to go. Off you pop.” 

Emma went through the mirror without questioning. Although she had plenty of questions to ask. Why Regina had gone with her tonight. Why she believed that she destroyed everything she touched. And whether the ‘we’ll see’ had been a half-promise about hypnotizing her.....

Emma undressed and went to bed with her head swimming with thoughts about what Regina had gone through when she was fourteen years old. A child in a very adult world. For the sheltered Emma   
who’d had a very safe childhood, it was almost impossible to imagine the choice the not yet adult Regina had been forced to take night where Sébastien almost... 

Emma didn’t want to think about it. It was too gruesome. But she was sure of one thing. She was not afraid of Regina. Not even the littlest bit. Regina would never be a ‘coldblooded killer’ in her eyes. The woman who had sat next to her and called her ‘flattering child’ while Emma sang was not a coldblooded killer. Walking Emma back to the mirror because she didn’t want her to get lost was not the act of a ‘coldblooded killer’. It was the act of a woman who cared. Emma fully believed that. And if Regina believed that Emma would run away screaming because of this, she had another thing coming!

Tonight Emma had learned more about Regina’s mysterious and tragic past, but she still didn’t know everything. But tonight was the first time Emma had hope that Regina would share the rest of her story with her. 

Emma reached up and touched the spot on her cheek Regina had touched a moment ago. The touch of a woman who cared. Not a coldblooded, murderous creature..

To Be Continued.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: Regina strangling her assailant with a rope is inspired by the 2004 movie in which a young Phantom strangles the man in the circus)


	31. I Hear Your Voice In The Darkness, Yet The Word Aren't Yours....

Weeks went by in a flash, and Emma didn’t quite understand where they went. She was so busy all the time. Her singing lessons took time, there was homework and of course her visits to the lair. She had started to linger longer and longer, and Regina didn’t kick her out nearly as much as she had done in the past. Regina had also developed the habit of escorting Emma back through the passageway at night, and more often than not, Emma had found her standing right behind the mirror when it was time for Emma to push it open so she could go to the lair. 

Emma had asked Regina why she had started doing it, but the only explanation Regina had offered was that she ‘wanted to make sure everything was happening in the right way’. Emma didn’t know what that meant, and she didn’t care much either. She was just happy when she could spend time with Regina.   
Regina had also started to be present for every single lesson that Emma had. In the past, her visits to Box Five had been infrequent, but now she was there every single time. Of course not on full display for everyone, but she leave little signs behind to let Emma know that she had been there. A black feather left under a seat. The slightest of skittering sound coming from behind the seat. Sometimes she revealed herself after the lesson when Emma was the only one present in the auditorium, and then Emma would always climb up to Box Five and talk to Regina for a while before hurrying away to catch up with her friends before they got suspicious of her behavior. 

Emma was incredibly touched by the attention Regina had shown her lately. The escort to and from the lair. The attending of all her rehearsals. And she hadn’t been nearly as harsh on Emma as she could sometimes be. She was almost patient now. Her smiles weren’t just a rare thing any longer. But unfortunately, she had not mentioned more about her past. Nothing about the mysterious Nadir Khan whose life she claimed to have ruined. Generally, they hadn’t spoken much lately. At least not when they were in the lair. Rehearsing seemed to be the only thing on Regina’s mind, and of course Emma willingly sang when asked to. Regina sang too of course, and her voice seemed find its way into Emma’s veins and make the blood roll quicker. Once Emma asked Regina if she was being hypnotized now, but 

Regina had merely laughed and assured Emma that she wouldn’t be in doubt if she was being hypnotized. 

Emma thought a lot about that statement, and the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to try it. She was so curious about what it felt like. And Regina hadn’t truly said no. She had just scoffed. Emma saw that as an encouragement. A hope that Regina one day would hypnotize her. Emma didn’t fear the outcome one bit. Really, she didn’t fear anything when it came to Regina. When Regina was crass and used harsh words, Emma had learned to wait it out, and she was seeing the white half-mask as a part of Regina and not something to be afraid of. 

And between lessons- official and unofficial ones- time passed. The big night was now only two months away, and the entire opera house was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was talking about the concert and even more about the masquerade ball taking place before the concert itself. Emma, who had never been the type to enjoy commotions and parties weren’t nearly as excited as everyone else, but this was a party she couldn’t say no to go to. So one afternoon, she had let herself be dragged to the center of Paris by Lily. They had spent hours and hours shopping for dresses in large malls and tiny little boutiques. Lily had found her dress in a mall so big Emma’s house back in Storybrooke easily could have lain in it twice. The mall had been huge and overwhelming, and Emma had constantly been afraid of getting lost, but the dress Lily had found had been quite beautiful. A short black dress with a tutu skirt and embellished, tight bodice. Combined with the thin, black gloves that came with it, and the black mask (this WAS a masquerade after all), Lily could easily represent the black swan. Whether it was intentional or not, Emma did not know, but it was the first thing coming to mind when she saw Lily in the dress. 

Emma too ended up finding a dress. In one of the tiny boutiques that only sold vintage dresses. Lily tried to persuade her to not shop for a vintage dress. She made a point in telling Emma that she couldn’t possibly know who had worn the dresses before her. But Emma did not care about that. If she truly was going to this masquerade thing before the big concert, she wanted to pick whatever she wanted. And she fell head over heels in love with a beautiful, white dress with a light and layered skirt that swished slightly when she moved. A pair of white feather wings came with the costume, and even though it was a bit much, Emma quickly decided that she didn’t want to buy the dress without the wings. It wouldn’t be right. The silvery embellishment on the bodice clearly represented wings as well, and it became obvious that she had stumbled upon an angel costume of sorts. It reminded Emma of the costume Claire Danes had worn in Romeo and Juliet, and seeing that Romeo and Juliet was one of Emma’s favorite movies, she definitely did not mind that. She found a silvery mask that didn’t look odd with the costume, and then she tried all of it on. 

When she emerged from the dressing room wearing the costume, Lily smiled widely. “Emma Swan, you look gorgeous,” she declared. 

“Thank you,” Emma said and put on a smile. This was normal, right? Girls called each other ‘gorgeous’ all the time, did they not? But the smile Lily sent her was just a little too... friendly. A little too warm. 

“Do you know who you’re going with?” Lily asked as Emma did a little spin in front of the mirror. 

“Going with?” Emma repeated. 

Lily chuckled. “The teacher’s are sticklers for tradition. It’s pretty common to choose a partner to go with. Of course there’s nothing wrong with going alone, but the tradition is to go to the masquerade ball with a partner.” 

“Oh, I see,” Emma nodded. She supposed that made sense. And she actually had heard Ruby and Belle talk about how they were going together. 

“So.... do you know who you’re going with?” Lily asked and shifted a bit on the chair. 

“Uhm, no I haven’t really thought about that.” Lie. There was only one person Emma could imagine inviting to the masquerade ball. But that also happened to be the one person she under no   
circumstances could ask. It was too dangerous. Suppose someone saw Regina among the crowd? A stupid little voice in the back of Emma’s mind reminded her that Regina had in fact gone to the masquerade party with Christine Daaé. But that had been different. Christine’s death had changed everything, and surely everyone, especially the teachers would be on their guards on the night of the masquerade ball held in Christine Daaé’s honor. 

“Okay. I was just... wondering,” Lily said half-heartedly. 

Emma quickly spun around under the pretense of looking at her reflection in the mirror, but really she was just buying herself time. She had a feeling that sooner rather than later, Lily would be asking her a question, and Emma needed time to figure out how she should answer it. Well, she already KNEW what her answer would be, but she needed time to string the words together. In a nice way. She knew exactly what Lily would ask her, and she also knew that she had to let her down gently. Lily’s interest in her had not faded like Emma had hoped. If anything, it had only intensified, and over the last few weeks, Lily had knocked on her door so they could walk to breakfast together. She had praised Emma after each lesson, and she had also developed the habit of showing up in the middle of the afternoon when Emma was busy with her homework, with either a piece of cake or something sweet for her. It had struck Emma that the gesture of bringing her sweets was not unlike the gesture she was doing for Regina. The pieces of cake or the chocolate bars were clearly a way for Lily to flirt with Emma, and as a result, Emma turned into a blushing fool every time she presented Regina with a chocolate bar or some other sweet treat. If Emma, who honestly wasn’t all that good with human signals, was able to identify Lily’s behavior as flirting, Regina MOST CERTAINLY would have recognized Emma’s behavior as the same. She must have. But she had never said anything. Not even mentioned it. 

Emma felt ridiculous for having been so obvious in her intentions. She had thought that her infatuation with Regina had been so subtle. 

The realization left her grumpy for the rest of the shopping trip. 

She was much happier when they returned to the opera house. She put her newly bought costume aside and spent a while on her own, doing homework and trying not to mull over her realization. She also called her mother. And was scolded for not calling often enough. Emma willingly took that scolding. She knew that she hadn’t been very good at checking in lately. She and her mom ended up talking for two hours. Emma filled her in on everything going on in the opera house (minus a few details, of course), and in return, her mother filled her in on everything going on in Storybrooke. Which wasn’t much. It had always been the plan that Emma was going to move back to Storybrooke when her scholarship in Paris ended, but now Emma wasn’t so sure anymore. She liked Paris. A lot. And she loved the opera house. She could easily imagine herself going after a more prolonged scholarship like Ruby and Belle. Train to become a ‘senior choir-member’. Her parents would be upset because the plan had always been that Emma was supposed to go home after a year, but they would understand her reasons for staying, right? They had always supported her in her choices, and especially the choices revolving around her future career. 

And of course there was another and prominent reason why Emma wanted to stay where she was. The Phantom of the Opera. She could not imagine herself to say goodbye to Regina and just go back to her old life in Storybrooke. Leaving Regina permanently alone in the lair under the opera house would be awful. Just imagining it made her feel upset. No, she couldn’t possibly leave Paris and the opera house. And when she got older, she could go after an actual, paid job at the opera house. Anything. She would even work as a janitor. As long as she could stay in Paris. Stay where Regina was. 

There was a knock on the door to her room, and Emma put down her pencil and called: “come in!”. 

The door was opened, and Belle’s smiling face appeared. “Hey, Emma,” she greeted. “Would you like to come into Ruby’s room for a while? We have some leftover cake from yesterday, and I’m sure you need a break, don’t you?” 

“A break would be nice,” Emma said even though she hadn’t done much else besides mulling over her future. 

“Come on then,” Belle smiled. 

Emma immediately left her homework abandoned on the desk. Any opportunity to get out of her head and do something else was welcome. She followed Belle down the hallway. The two girls chitchatted on the way. Emma told Belle about her newly chosen costume, and Belle expressed her excitement about the whole thing. She too was looking forward to the masquerade, and Emma lied her way through the conversation. Big crowds and dancing was not her thing. And having to experience it without the only person she wanted to be accompanied by was even worse. 

There was indeed cake in Ruby’s room. Chocolate cake. Emma couldn’t complain about that. 

Ruby smiled at her. “Hey, Emma. Come in. I ran into Lily earlier. Did you guys find a costume?” 

“We did,” Emma confirmed as she climbed up to sit on the bed like Ruby. “Lily found a really pretty dress.” 

“And what about you?” Belle asked. “Did you find something too?”

“Mm, a really pretty one,” Emma smiled. She liked her new dress a lot. She had taken a picture of her dress and sent it to her mom. Her mom had really liked it. 

“Tell us about it!” Ruby prompted and grinned. 

“Well, it’s sort of like... an angel costume,” Emma said vaguely and suddenly felt childish and silly. Maybe she shouldn’t have bought the feathery wings anyway, but they had fitted so well with the delicate white dress. 

And Ruby and Belle didn’t seem to find her one bit silly. “That sounds absolutely perfect,” Ruby smiled. “Very fitting.” 

“It fitted perfectly,” Emma said with a light shrug. “I suppose it’s a bit simple, but that’s the way I like it.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” Belle said kindly. “Ruby is the only one who’s being extravagant. Isn’t that right, Rubes?”

“Hey!” Ruby protested and mock scowled at her girlfriend. “I am NOT extravagant!”

“You so are,” Belle teased. “Your costume is so over the top!”

“Says the girl who chose a huge yellow thing!” Ruby scoffed. 

“Well, we both know I look amazing in the yellow thing,” Belle said plainly. 

“That’s true,” Ruby back-pedaled and flashed Belle her sweetest smile. “You do.”

Belle kept scowling, and Emma chuckled quietly to herself as she watched Ruby give Belle all kinds of compliments. The two of them were very sweet together. Even if Malena did complain that they sometimes laughed a little too loudly when the dormitory was supposed to be quiet for the night. Emma had no problem with that. It wasn’t a regular night at the dormitory if she hadn’t fallen asleep to hearing Malena or Mme. Carlotta scold Ruby for ‘disturbing the peace and quiet’. They never was very strict about it, though. And Emma knew why. Ruby was the star. The leading lady. One could claim that she could get away with too many things. Killian Jones had actually muttered that a few times, but Emma couldn’t be bothered by it. Ruby was so professional when she was on stage. And she was such a kind person, it was difficult to be irritated with her. So what if she was a bit goofy when she was ‘off work’. Emma often wished that she could be a bit more like Ruby. Upbeat. Happy. Easily making friends. Good qualities, and a stark contrast to Emma’s almost crippling awkwardness and shyness. Yes, Emma had come out of her shell a lot during the months she had spent here, but she wasn’t fully there yet. And maybe she never would. Maybe becoming like Ruby was not something that would ever happen. But she would try her best to be more open and resourceful in the future. 

Ruby cut the cake, and soon all three of them were happily munching on cake while chitchatting. Mostly about the upcoming ball, and Emma felt very out of place. Had a feeling that she was the only one not feeling particularly excited about the masquerade party. A huge crowd, loud music and not being able to spend the evening with Regina. As Belle and Ruby chatted, an idea formed in Emma’s head.   
Maybe she didn’t HAVE to be there for the masquerade party. Maybe she could put on her pretty dress, be present at the masquerade party for a little while and then slip away quietly to be with Regina instead. In her new dress. That was quite the good idea, was it not?

Emma took another bite of her piece of cake and settled with that. But she wasn’t entirely satisfied. Was it really impossible for Regina to come to the masquerade ball? She had attended the ball with Christine. And if it had been possible for her to blend in with the crowd and go unnoticed then, why couldn’t she do the same now? Maybe Emma would simply ask her. Invite her to come to the ball with her. Regina had been so kind to her lately, so maybe she would say yes (wishful thinking) or at least turn her down gently. One could only hope. 

“Your parents are coming too, right?” Ruby asked and pulled Emma out of her thoughts. 

“Yes,” Emma said immediately, quickly gathering that they were talking about the concert. “Of course.” 

“That’s nice,” Ruby smiled. “My grandmother will be coming too. She hasn’t been talking about anything else for months. Making me nervous, she does.” 

“You have absolutely no reason to be nervous, Ruby,” Emma said. “You are fantastic.” 

“Hear, hear,” Belle said softly and gave Ruby’s hand a little squeeze. 

“Thanks, but please don’t jinx it,” Ruby said and grimaced. “It makes me think that I’ll fuck it up in some way.”

Emma laughed as Belle immediately started protesting loudly and convincing her girlfriend that she wouldn’t fuck up. Emma didn’t believe so either. Ruby was an outstandingly talented singer, and Emma had never heard her ‘fuck up’ ever. She was a professional. Exactly what Emma hoped to become one day. Confident in the spotlight like Ruby was. No fear. No trembling in her voice. 

As Belle and Ruby bantered good naturedly, Emma absentmindedly looked around in Ruby’s room and hummed softly to herself as last night’s lesson with Regina interfered with her other thoughts and filled her mind completely. Regina had a tendency to fill her mind. And Emma was more or less always humming to herself. It was hard to stop singing even when she didn’t have to. Many, many times her parents had stopped talking and laughed at her because she unconsciously had started humming. Emma was typically quite embarrassed about it, but not here in the opera house. Here, everyone was constantly humming to either warm up or rehearse. Here, humming was completely normal and absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Emma, what are you humming?!” Ruby suddenly asked with a newfound sharpness in her voice.

Emma’s head jerked up. “What?” she asked confused and blinked.

“That song,” Ruby said, still sharply and for once not a trace of amusement in her eyes. “Where have you learned that song?!”

“What song?” Emma asked, still confused. “I don’t even know what song I was humming!”

“This one,” Ruby said and then she imitated the humming Emma had done a moment ago. 

Emma’s confusion changed to shock when she realized that the tune she had been humming was ‘Think of Me’. A forbidden song to hum when she was among others. Now she had to think fast. And lie   
fast. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “We rehearse so many different songs, it’s sometimes hard to separate them from each other.” there. Her voice sounded both confused and casual. Convincing. 

But Ruby still eyed her suspiciously. “I’ve only heard one other person hum that song.”

“Ruby,” Belle softly warned. 

Ruby ignored her and finished her sentence. “Christine Daaé. She knew that song too.” 

Emma’s stomach did an uncomfortable flipflop. She was walking on shaky ground. “As I said, I can’t remember where I heard it,” she said and was surprised at the coldness in her voice. “And what does it even matter? It’s just a song, Ruby.”

“It MATTERS because Christine was the only other person who knew the song,” Ruby said and narrowed her eyes as she looked at Emma. “And she couldn’t 'remember' where she had heard it either.” 

Emma said nothing. She just lifted her chin haughtily and did not break eye contact with Ruby. If she looked away, the lie would become even more obvious. 

“Are you sure you can’t remember where you heard that song?” Ruby asked and examined every inch of Emma’s face. “Are you ABSOLUTELY certain?” 

“Yes!” Emma snipped.

“Christine was my friend, Emma,” Ruby continued. “My best friend. And she started to act properly weird before she disappeared.” 

Emma’s stomach tightened again. “With all due respect, Ruby... What does that have to do with me?” 

“It has something to do with you because her behavior was so similar to the one you’re displaying right now,” Ruby said, and her eyes narrowed further. “And I don’t like it.” 

“Ruby,” Belle said again. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Emma said and willed herself to keep her cool. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know Christine, so I can’t possibly know what you mean when you say that I’m acting like her.” 

“Do you know something?” Ruby asked directly. 

“Something WHAT?” Emma asked slightly exasperated because Ruby’s questions were getting far too close. 

“Anything,” Ruby asked just as directly. “Is there something you’re not telling us? Either about the song or where you learned it?” 

“Ruby,” Belle said one more time. Now more warningly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma said with the strange, cold voice that apparently was her lying-voice now. “And I don’t understand why you’re interrogating me over a random song.” 

“And I don’t understand why you’re not telling the truth,” Ruby said, cheeks reddening with badly concealed anger. “You’re obviously hiding something! I can see it in your eyes!”

“RuBY!” Belle said very, very firmly. “Calm down, okay? You’re jumping down her throat for no reason!”

“She’s hiding something!” Ruby said tightly, still looking only at Emma. “I can see it! She’s acting exactly like Christine did before she-“

“I’m leaving,” Emma interrupted as she got up from the bed. “I don’t want to hang out in here any longer.” She turned around and walked towards the door. 

“Emma!” Belle pleaded. “Don’t go. I’m sure Ruby didn’t mean-“ 

“If you know something you have to tell us! Tell me!” Ruby cut her off, and her voice rose in volume. “She was my friend, Emma! I DESERVE to know the truth, and if you’re keeping something from me-“

“I don’t know ANYTHING,” Emma said tightly and glared at the older choir-member. “Except for one thing... You’re not as nice as I thought you were! Goodbye!” and with that, she turned around and left Ruby’s room, for the first time in her life slamming a door. And she did it so loudly, the door rattled, and the sound echoed through the empty corridor. 

With a heart that thrummed angrily in her chest, Emma stomped down the hallway. She could hear Belle yell at Ruby behind the door, and she felt a cruel satisfaction!

Emma’s anger brought her down many flights of stairs. She walked around without purpose for a while, fueled by her anger. But as angry as she felt, she was also concerned. Ruby had gotten far too close to the truth tonight. For the first time, someone had actually inched close enough to the truth to almost uncover it. Emma’s secret. 

Emma tried to calm herself. Tried to tell herself that this was okay. That it was to be expected. She had gotten away with this for far too long. It was only natural that someone was going to ask questions sooner or later. But these kind of questions had come too close. Far, far too close. Emma cursed herself. How could she slip up like that and hum ‘Think of Me’? That was so stupid! She should have been smart enough to remember that Christine of course had learned the same songs as her in Regina’s lair. She should have considered the possibility that Christine would hum said songs out loud. And last, but not least.... She shouldn’t have forgotten the fact that Christine had been Ruby’s friend, and even though Christine certainly not had told Ruby everything there was to know, she HAD told her some things about the Phantom of the Opera and the things she had taught her. Emma had to stop acting like she was the only protégé Regina had ever had. There had been one before her. Christine Daaé had been before her. She was the one who had found The Phantom of the Opera first, and even though Christine was dead, not all of her secrets had died with her. Of course she had confided in Ruby to some degree. 

Emma gnashed her teeth slightly. She was mad at herself for having been so careless. Mad at herself for having allowed Ruby to get too close. Ruby was one of the few people who actually believed there was something to the myth about The Phantom of the Opera. She didn’t believe that Christine’s death had been by accidental drowning. Emma wasn’t sure what to believe, really. Despite the story about Sébastien’s demise, she still didn’t suspect Regina of harming Christine Daaé, but it was hard to have an opinion of what had happened to Christine when Regina wouldn’t talk about it. If only she would. If only she would tell Emma the whole story of what had happened to her former protégé. There were still so many things Emma didn’t know. But she did now one thing, though. From now on, Ruby would be suspicious of her. Maybe even keep a close eye on her. Emma did not need that. She needed to be left alone so she could keep her secret. Keep the Phantom of the Opera safe and away from people’s prying eyes. When she imagined that, she saw an angry mob of people with torches storming Regina’s lair. Exactly like in a movie. Her desire to keep Regina away everyone didn’t really fit with her secret wish that Regina could go to the masquerade ball with her. But Emma chalked that up to being a selfish need. And it wasn’t impossible that she was jealous because Regina had gone to the masquerade party with Christine Daaé. 

Eventually, the rush of adrenaline the unexpected argument with Ruby had brought with it, subsided, and Emma blinked in confusion upon realizing where she was. At the crypt. The place where she often came to light a candle for her late grandmother, Eva. Well, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe she could do with some reflection and quiet time. And talking to her grandmother always helped no matter what. It wouldn’t have been the first time Emma confided in her late grandmother when the rest of the world didn’t quite understand her. She did not care if it was strange. Sometimes talking to her grandmother was the only thing that helped, really, and as long as it did that, Emma couldn’t see anything strange about talking to her even though she wasn’t in this world any longer. 

Unlike the first time she had walked down here, she found the right door right away. She used the anger she had left to push the heavy door open, but the door was less heavy than she had anticipated, or maybe she was more angry than she had thought, and used more force, but either way, she almost stumbled inside the room. 

“Damnit,” she muttered before remembering where she was and immediately feeling guilty for cussing. This was definitely not the place for cussing. Not even if you were cross like Emma was. 

And it didn’t make her feel any less guilty to discover that she wasn’t alone in the crypt. She felt even worse for having barged in when she saw Mr. Gold stand there in one of his usual suits and his greying hair covering his forehead because of the way he was bowing his head. His cane was standing leaning against the wall, and Emma could see the way that he was shifting and leaning heavily against the table. It was obvious that he was in pain but had to use both of his hands to light a candle and therefore couldn’t use his cane right now. 

Emma didn’t say anything. It seemed disrespectful to talk when he was lightening a candle for someone whom he had lost. She quietly closed the door behind her and just as quietly walked over to the little altar where the candles and matches were. 

As she fumbled with the matches to light one of the candles, Mr. Gold had finished lightening not one but two candles. Now he turned and looked at Emma. “Good afternoon, miss Swan,” he said. 

“Afternoon, Mr. Gold,” Emma said shyly. She hadn’t expected to find the owner of the Opera Garnier down here. 

“Someone you had a close bond with?” he asked, nodding towards the candle she was struggling to light. 

“My grandmother,” Emma told him. “She and I were very close. I can’t count the times I spent the day at her place instead of at my parents’ house.” 

“My condolences. Loosing someone you were that close to is ever easy.”

“No, it is not,” Emma agreed. “It’s been three years since she died, but I still miss her a lot.” She glanced discreetly at the two candles Mr. Gold had lit. He too clearly knew something about loss.

Mr. Gold quickly noticed that she was looking at the two candles. “My wife and son,” he told her. “My son was only three weeks old when my wife took him out for a drive to her parents place. It was a drunk driver. Both my wife and my son was killed on impact.” He sighed. “It was many years ago, but it never quite leaves you. Your entire being changes and your life shifts when something like that happens.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Gold,” Emma said quietly, deeply touched by his heartbreaking story. And she was also embarrassed for having been so curious. This was Mr. Gold’s grief. He shouldn’t feel obliged to share it with her just because she had been staring not so subtly. 

“I’d like to think that they are still with me in some sort of way,” Mr. Gold said. “Perhaps that is a tad naïve of me, but I believe it’s the only way to cope with grief.”

“I’m sure they are still with you, Mr. Gold,” Emma said and flashed him a little smile. She felt the same about her grandmother. Had always had a feeling that Eva was watching over her when she sang. 

Mr. Gold returned the smile and then glanced at the box of matches still in Emma’s hands. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, bowing his head in a slight nod. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your private moment.” 

“I think I interrupted yours,” Emma acknowledged and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’m sorry about that.” 

“It’s quite alright, miss Swan. I do hope you’ll find a bit of comfort.” He used his hands to push himself away from the table and turn around. Then he sighed. “Miss Swan, do you think you could bring me my cane?” 

“Of course!” Emma said quickly, dropping the box of matches on the table and turning around. She briskly walked over to the wall and grabbed Mr. Gold’s cane. Handed it to him with a smile and a: “here you go, Mr. Gold.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan. The old leg always causing me trouble,” he complained as he took the cane and leaned heavily on it as he walked. “Have a good rest of your afternoon, Miss Swan.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Gold. You too.” 

He slowly hobbled out of the crypt, and Emma thought about the many stairs he had to battle to get upstairs. She was on the verge of going after him to offer her help, but at the last minute she back pedaled and decided not to. Mr. Gold was used to the stairs in the opera house. And Emma was in the middle of something. 

She turned her attention back to the candles and finally lit one. Tried to think about her beloved grandmother and not the argument she’d had with Ruby....

Emma ate dinner alone that night. Lily was having dinner with her mom in Mal’s private rooms tonight. Emma had been invited too, but she hadn’t been in the mood for being scrutinized by her ‘official’ mentor. So she had opted for dining alone instead. And all the while she was eating, she could feel Ruby’s gaze as a burning at the back of her neck. Belle had tried to wave Emma down to get her to sit with them when Emma came into the canteen earlier, but Emma had copied one of Regina’s favorite moves and had tipped up her chin and ignored Belle’s not too subtle attempt at smoothening things out. She refused to softened that easily. If Ruby wanted to smoothen things out, she could do it herself and not let it go through Belle. But perhaps it was better if Emma and Ruby did not talk as much as they had done in the past. That way Emma didn’t find herself in another situation where she had to lie. Yes, it was better to lay low and avoid Ruby as much as she could. She had gotten too close. Far, far too close. Ruby was smart. She wouldn’t have needed a lot of clues to figure out the truth. That the ‘myth’ about the Phantom of the Opera was true, and that Emma had met said ‘Phantom’ several times. 

Emma stubbornly grabbed her tray and went up to the buffet under the pretense of getting more food. She grabbed an extra sandwich, two chocolate cookies and an apple and stuffed it inside her backpack as discreetly as she could. Then she spun around on her heels and left the canteen. With Ruby’s gaze burning at the back of her neck, and Belle’s angry whispering to her girlfriend. She was clearly dissatisfied with Ruby’s behavior. 

Emma met no one in the hallways on her way up to her room. And just as well. She really was not in the mood to talk to everyone. Except for Regina. She supposed she had to tell Regina about the altercation with Ruby. Regina had to know what was going on. Especially if Ruby could turn into a potential problem. But Regina wouldn’t be happy about it. She would most likely scold Emma for having been careless. Emma certainly deserved that. She HAD been very careless. God, she could kick herself for having been stupid enough to hum ‘Think of Me’ in front of Ruby. Stupid, stupid her!

Emma was still mentally kicking herself when she reached her own room. She slipped inside and locked the door like she always did. Then she loosened her hair from the tight ponytail, pushed the glasses up her nose and adjusted the straps on her backpack slightly. She brushed a hand over her white choir-dress and then went over to the mirror. She pushed at it and felt a little better when she felt the mirror move on its frame and then slide to the right, revealing the hole behind it. 

Emma immediately walked through the hole and pushed the mirror shut behind her. She didn’t need a moment to brace herself before telling Regina about her blunder. She could do that while she walked through the passageway....

There was no Regina sitting by the piano when Emma arrived at the lair. There was no Regina sitting on the floor either. She tended to do that a lot, but tonight there was no sign of her. Emma figured that Regina most likely had gone ‘out’. She sometimes did that. She never said where or how she got out. Emma doubted that ‘through the front door’ was the answer, and she had often wondered about how many hidden passageway there existed in the opera house. She was certain there had to be at least a few she didn’t knew anything about. But Regina did. She had been here for a long time. How long   
Emma still didn’t know, but she hoped that Regina one day would tell her. Share the rest of her story with her. 

Emma put her backpack down and sat down on the cold stone floor to wait for Regina. She always did that when she found the lair empty. And Regina always had the same ‘oh, so you’re here again’-comment when she came swanning back into the lair. But of course she was not genuinely surprised. She knew that Emma had the tendency to come back again and again. 

Emma kept her eyes on the opening to the lair so she could see when Regina came back. The opening in the lair was typically the place she came from when she had been out. 

But tonight it wasn’t movement from the passageway that caught Emma’s attention. It was a low moaning coming from the little ‘room’ that was hidden by the black curtain. Emma’s head whipped up and she rose from her sitting position on the floor. “Hello?” 

There was no answer. Only the same, low moaning as she had heard a second ago. Emma was sort of starting to feel slightly on edge. “Hello?” she called again. “Regina, is that you?” 

Still no answer. Not even that strained moaning. 

Emma decided to be brave and perhaps a tad stupid and investigate what was going on. She left her backpack to stand on the floor, and then she walked over to the black curtain. She listened for a moment. There was that wounded moaning again. She easily identified the voice as belonging to Regina. And Regina was clearly in some sort of distress. But she typically didn’t want Emma to come into the room behind the curtain. That was hers, her private ‘chambers’ she had said. Emma was free to roam about everywhere else in the lair. Just not in there. Regina guarded that room like the Beast guarded the West Wing. Emma felt torn. She didn’t want to break Regina’s rules and make her angry. But Regina really sounded like she was in pain.....

Again, Emma acted on an impulse that was either brave or stupid. She carefully pushed the black curtain aside and peered into the room behind it. “Regina?” 

No answer. Emma scanned the room. Everything looked the same as last time. Except for the pile of clothes laying in the boat. Clothes? No, wait a second. Emma took a closer look at the ‘pile of clothes’,   
and it didn’t take her long to notice that the ‘pile of clothes’ was in fact moving. Because ‘the pile of clothes’ was not a pile of clothes at all. It was Regina. And judging by the way she moved, it looked like she was shivering from head to toe. 

That did it for Emma. She fully came into the room and walked over to the boat. Regina was laying under a mountain of dresses that was most likely intended to keep her warm, but it didn’t look like the layers of clothes were doing a very good job. She was shivering and thereby making the pile of dresses move back and forward as though the boat was floating on unsteady water. 

“Regina?” Emma softly asked once more. “Regina, are you alright?” 

Regina moaned in pain again and then croaked: “go away, Christine.” 

“It’s not Christine,” Emma said just as softly. “It’s me. Emma.” 

It didn’t seem like the words were registering with Regina, though. “I said, go away. Not right now, Christine,” she croaked and let out a dry cough that sounded utterly painful. When she inhaled, it was with a wheezing sound.

Emma walked over to the boat-bed and lifted one of Regina’s hands. It felt clammy with sweat. And taking a closer look at Regina, she could see that she was as white as a sheet, safe for a rosy spot on the cheek that wasn’t covered in the white half-mask she was still wearing. With baited breath Emma released Regina’s hand and then brought her own up to Regina’s cheek. Another incredibly bold move of her. Emma was afraid that even though Regina clearly was in a feverish state right now, she would still find the strength to yell at Emma. 

But Regina did not yell. And Emma winced upon touching her cheek. Regina was burning up, and Emma was certain she had found the reason for Regina’s demure behavior last night. She hadn’t been feeling well. Coming to think of it, Emma HAD noticed that Regina’s eyes had been kind of glassy last night, but she had chalked it up to it being the result of the bad lightening in the lair. Now she knew better. And she was mad at herself for not picking up on the signs yesterday. Regina was burning up but shivering as though she was cold. She was clearly running a high fever, and the temperature in the cold lair did nothing to help. Neither did the layers of dresses and few thin blankets Regina were laying under. This could get serious. If Regina wasn’t properly cared for, she could develop pneumonia. 

And pneumonia was dangerous. Or at least it could become so if not treated in time. 

“Don’t... touch me,” Regina croaked weakly. 

Emma immediately moved her hand away from Regina’s cheek and looked around in the cold lair. This was no place to be sick. Regina needed to be somewhere warmer. With access to proper blankets. And a proper bed. 

“Regina,” Emma said gently. 

No reaction. 

“Regina,” Emma tried again. “Wake up.” 

Regina made a slight huffing sound. “Get... out.” 

“I’m getting out,” Emma assured, puffing out her chest as though ready for battle. “But I’m not getting out alone. You need to come with me. Can you walk?”

“I a-a-am not going... anywhere,” Regina coughed. “Leave.” 

“Regina, please,” Emma said, sinking to her knees in front of the boat. “You have to come with me. You can’t stay here when you’re this sick. It’s too cold down here. You could get pneumonia.” 

“And so... what?” Regina said weakly. 

“So PLENTY!” Emma said firmly. “I am not letting you get sick! You gotta come with me! Please?” 

She had expected Regina to either not react or tell her to leave again, but to her utmost surprise, the pile of clothes moved and slithered off Regina as she fought her way into a sitting position. Her hands trembled as she grabbed onto the edge of the boat, and her dark eyes were glassy and unfocused as she looked at Emma. “Very well then,” she croaked and coughed dryly again, chest rattling with each breath she took. “For your sake then.... Christine.” 

Emma’s stomach tightened. Regina was clearly completely delirious. Emma was worried sick. And a tad unnerved at being called ‘Christine’, but that was something she could easily push back and squash like an annoying bug. Regina didn’t know what she was saying right now. She couldn’t be held accountable for the words coming out of her mouth. And Emma’s hair looked a lot like Christine’s. It was an easy mistake to make. 

Regina’s fingers slipped on the edge of the boat as she tried to get up, and Emma quickly came to her aid. “Here,” she said softly and took Regina’s hands in her own. “I’ve got you.” 

Regina had to use all her strength on getting up and didn’t answer her. And Emma’s worry did not lessen when she heard Regina’s breath rattling as she strained to stand. She managed, but swayed dangerously back and forward. 

Once again, Emma did the first thing coming to mind as she grabbed Regina’s arm and draped it over her shoulder. Things were a bit uneven because Regina was tall and Emma was not, but somehow it still worked, and Emma gently helped the sick Regina out of the lair with one arm around her waist. She did not think about how this was the closest she had ever gotten to Regina. She was much too worried about her to think about anything. 

“Where... are we going?” Regina asked weakly and coughed again. 

“We’re going to my room,” Emma replied. “Be careful where you step.” 

“That’s not a good idea,” Regina mumbled. 

“It’s the only thing to do,” Emma said simply. She was unsure who Regina was talking to. Her or Christine? 

Regina mumbled something inaudible under her breath as they continued the rocky walk through the passageway. Emma couldn’t understand the first part, but she had no problem with understanding the second part Regina mumbled: “are we... going the right way? Be careful with the... with the lake.” 

“We’re not going anywhere near the lake,” Emma assured. 

Regina didn’t react to that. She only coughed wheezingly once more, and Emma thanked her lucky stars that she was a worrier who had packed an arsenal of medicine before going to Paris. She had everything from aspirin to cough drops, and right now it seemed like Regina needed both. And the hot water bottle Emma’s mom had snuck into her bag. Emma had been a little embarrassed about the teddy bear shaped hot water bottle, but right now she couldn’t have been more grateful about it. Regina needed to be warmed up. That was the only way to treat this kind of fever. 

“We’re almost there,” Emma told Regina who was still leaning heavily on her. 

“Your voice... sounds different, Christine.”

Emma settled for murmuring something vague. She didn’t have the heart to tell Regina that she was not Christine. And there was a good chance that it probably wouldn’t register with her either. So for right now, she let it slide. It was a lie, but one that would most likely slip past Regina’s attention. There was a good chance she wouldn’t remember any of this when she felt better. Emma had experienced being so delirious during a fever, that she couldn’t remember anything the following morning. Her parents had to tell her what she had said. Which mostly had been a bunch of nonsense. But the things   
Regina said wasn’t as much nonsense as it was just sad. Heartbreakingly sad. She thought that Emma was Christine. She thought that her friend had come back. Emma felt a lump in her throat but fought valiantly to ignore it. 

“Do you... think that I could... be dying?” Regina asked a bit suddenly and coughed again in that painful manner. 

“No!” Emma barked. 

“I don’t think... it would m-m-make much of a difference.” 

“Don’t talk like that!” Emma yelped. The thought alone was impossible!

“Oh. Y-y-you don’t like when I....say that,” Regina said and blinked. “I... forgot. And I s-s-s-still have things t-t-t-to do. Do forgive me.... Christine.” She coughed once more and then fell silent, only concentrating on her breathing. 

Emma said nothing either. What could she even say after that kind of exchange? She was much too shocked...

When they at last made it back to Emma’s room, Emma didn’t hesitate to help Regina into bed. Regina collapsed in a coughing fit that had the bed creaking, and Emma was quick to find all the blankets she had in the room and put them over Regina’s trembling frame. Then she found the bottle of cough drops in her little ‘first aid kit’. She jogged into the bathroom and filled her little glass with water. Went back to the bedroom and added some coughing drops to the liquid. 

“Regina, I have some medicine for you,” she said gently. 

“I don’t like.... medicine.” 

It was so uncharacteristic a statement, Emma could have laughed if the situation had been any different. Now she only said: “it’s for the cough. It has always helped me when I’m sick. Take it. Please?” she was pretty much out of options if Regina refused. She couldn’t very well FORCE Regina to take the medicine. 

But luckily, further coercion was not required. Regina lifted her head. Lifted her hand and took the glass of water mixed with coughing drops from Emma. With trembling hands, she brought the glass up to her lips and drank all of it. Miraculously not spilling a single drop despite how much her hands were trembling. 

“Thank you,” Emma said and took the now empty glass. “Is there... is there anything else I can do for you?” she suspected that the answer would be a ‘no’, followed by a ‘go away’ or ‘leave me alone’.

But Regina surprised her by croaking: “yes.” 

“What?” Emma asked. She was prepared for anything. If Regina was hungry, she would run back to the lair and grab her backpack where the food was. If Regina wanted something else than water, she would use her newly bought kettle to make her some tea. 

“Sing,” Regina half-coughed. 

“Sing?” Emma repeated, surprised at the request. She had not expected that. 

“Yes,” Regina wheezed. “Sing. Sooth my mind. You’re the only one who can.” 

Her or Christine? Again, Emma wasn’t sure. But she had just vowed to do whatever Regina requested. And this was a fairly simple request. 

Emma cleared her throat and quietly begin to sing the song that had gotten her in so much trouble earlier:

‘Think of Me,

Think of me fondly,

When we’ve said goodbye...

Remember me,

Every so often, 

Promise me, you’ll try. 

When you find, that once again you long,

To take your heart back and be free.

If you ever find a moment....

Spare a thought for..... me.’

Of course it had to be the effect of the medicine kicking in, but Emma could hear how Regina’s breath became less strained. Less rattle-y. And when she looked at her, she could see The Phantom of the Opera smile. A very slight smile. But nevertheless a smile. 

“Very g-g-good, my little songbird,” Regina said tiredly with her dark eyes closed and motioned weakly with her hands. “Keep singing, my dear. Sing for the Angel... of Music.” 

And of course Emma kept singing. Softly and gently to avoid giving the song any sharp edges. She would sing all night if that was what Regina wanted. 

Soon, Regina’s hands grew limp and her smile faded. She was drifting off to sleep again. But right before that happened, she managed to slur: “do not stop... singing.” Then she went quiet and breath evened out further thought her chest rattled. 

Emma did not stop singing. Although ‘Think of Me’ was over, she quickly found another piece to sing. Another of Regina’s songs. They hadn’t practiced that one yet, but Emma had seen the sheet of paper laying in the lair for so long, she had memorized most of the words: 

‘Oh, you are Music; sunbursts of Music,

And you are light to me...

Oh, you are Music, beautiful Music,

And you are life to me...’ 

Regina did not react to it at all. She slept. Not entirely peaceful. Her chest was still rattling, and her cheeks were still rosy, but at least she was warmer. She was in an actual bed. And Emma intended to keep it that way until Regina felt better. It would be no problem for Emma to sleep on the floor tonight. There was an extra pillow and blanket under the bed. And the rug on the floor was soft enough to lie on. Perhaps not as comfortable as her bed, but good enough. Sleeping on the floor for a day or two or possibly three wouldn’t kill her. If she could fall asleep sitting up when reading a book, she could fall asleep on the floor too. It wasn’t that different, was it? She would be just fine. 

Emma pushed her hair away from her face and looked at her locked door. She could get away with this, couldn’t she? The door was locked. It was getting late. Lily was with her mother for the night. She had a tiff with Ruby and Belle. They wouldn’t come to her room either.

Nobody would bother her anymore tonight. She was sure of that. Nobody would ever know that Emma was keeping the Phantom of the Opera in her room.....

****************

That night, Emma went to sleep curled up on the rug under the blankets and with one of the spare pillows under her head. It wasn’t that bad, really. She could definitely sleep there. 

Regina was sleeping too. Her chest rattled some, but not as much as it had earlier in the lair. Right before Emma had curled up on the floor, Regina had woken up some, and Emma had taken the opportunity to offer her more cough drops and two aspirins. Regina didn’t say very much during it. Didn’t call Emma Christine. Just coughed a little. Took her medicine and then went back to sleep. 

Now Emma was going to sleep too. Her day hadn’t turned out like she had imagined. She hadn’t expected the argument with Ruby, definitely not. Nor had she expected to find a sick, shivering Regina in the lair. And even less to be bold enough to bring her back to her room. She wondered what Regina would think of it when she returned to her normal self. Would she be angry? Grateful? Emma wiggled a bit on the floor to get comfortable. Regina probably wouldn’t be grateful. Most likely, she would be upset at Emma for taking such a foolish risk. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong for getting upset. This WAS a foolish risk to take. But Emma didn’t care. This had been the right thing to do. The ONLY thing to do. Regina couldn’t have stayed in the lair. She would have frozen to death! Okay, maybe not that, but she definitely would have gotten really sick. And that was something Emma most certainly didn’t want to happen. 

Emma wiggled on the floor again. It was a bit hard comparing to her soft bed, but it would have to do. There hadn’t been any other options. Regina couldn’t very well have slept on the floor in her state. Or in any other state for that matter. And the bed was a single bed. Only room for one person. Emma scoffed quietly to herself. Where was she even going with this? Had a part of her seriously wanted to share the bed with Regina? That was beyond ridiculous! Regina would surely have been furious had she woken up to THAT!

Emma scoffed again. Cursed her own stupidity as she laid there on the floor in the darkness. 

Regina mumbled something. Something that sounded like ‘don’t!’. Her voice was different. Almost fearful. 

Emma reached up and gave Regina’s hand a very small pat. She didn’t want Regina to wake up and feel confused all over again. But she didn’t want her to have bad dreams either. 

Maybe her intentions worked. Regina went silent again, and soon Emma heard her breath even out. She had fallen asleep again. 

Emma wanted to do the same. Go to sleep. So she closed her eyes. Right before drifting off, she could have sworn she heard something in the hallway, but she was so tired she just as well could be mistaken. After a moment, Emma went to sleep on the floor. With her hand only inches away from Regina's.....

To Be Continued.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: Emma's costume is inspired by the Greece production's version of Christine's masquarade dress)


	32. Talking In Riddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a SUPER long chapter! I tried to shorten it, but it just didn't make sense in the long run (har, har) but feel free to skip past parts or skip entirely if you're not into long chapters ;)

When Emma’s alarm went off and started beeping at seven AM the next morning, she almost leapt from the floor to switch it off. For a moment she could not remember why she had to be so quick to switch the alarm off this particular morning, but then she remembered. Remembered that The Phantom of the Opera was in fact here. That she had spent the night in Emma’s bed.   
Emma turned her head and looked at Regina. The beeping from the alarm had not roused her from her sleep, and she was laying curled up under Emma’s duvet. Her long fingers were curled around the sheet, and her face half-hidden under her dark curls. Her chest was still rattling slightly, but not at all like last night. Her breath was less strained. It was obvious that the medicine had done its job, and 

Emma felt so relieved. She had been quite concerned about Regina’s condition last night. Had been awake several times during the night to listen to her breathing. But now it would seem that she didn’t need to feel so worried. Regina was doing better. Her breathing was less strained, her cough less painfully sounding, and the two pink spots on her cheeks seemed paler too. Her fever had gone down. 

Thank god. 

Emma rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. The floor had not been very comfortable to sleep on, her back was a bit stiff and sore. But it was worth it. She looked at Regina. Quietly and carefully reached out and touched Regina’s hand that was visible over the duvets. It wasn’t nearly as clammy as it had been last night. Thank god. Regina’s hand was still warm, but not as warm. She was still running a fever, but not a fever like the one she had been running last night. Not the kind of fever that made you become delirious and say stuff that didn’t necessarily made sense. 

Emma released Regina’s hand again. Never had she been more reluctant to leave her room and go downstairs to breakfast and rehearsal. She would have preferred this. Staying in her room and watch over Regina. But she was well aware that she could not do that. If she was absent, it wouldn’t take long before either Lily or Malena would knock on her door and demand to talk to her. And Emma obviously couldn’t risk that. She couldn’t risk anyone coming into her room. 

So she got up from the floor. Quietly, of course. She crouched down in front of her dresser and found her white chorus dress, white leggings, her white hairband, clean underwear and her little white ballerina shoes. Then she found her glasses and slipped them on. Although they were a bit greasy and needed cleaning, the image of her room still became sharper. The image of Regina sleeping in Emma’s bed became sharper. And Emma was pleased to see that her blurry vision had not failed her. Regina’s cheeks were less rosy, and her chest was indeed moving slower than last night. And now-   
Emma flushed a little and tugged a lock of hair behind her ear- she should probably stop staring at Regina’s chest. That was not a polite thing to do. And especially not to someone who was asleep. AND ill. Emma mentally scolded herself as she grabbed her clothes and went into the bathroom. In there, she stripped out of her clothes, took her glasses off and switched on the water. Went into the shower and began to wash her long blonde hair. She wasn’t using as hard a beam of water as she normally would, and for a good reason. She wanted to take a quiet shower not to wake Regina. The best thing to do when sick, was sleeping. And there was not a shred of doubt in Emma’s mind that Regina had been very, VERY sick last night! She had been burning up. Thank god she wasn’t doing that anymore. 

There had been a moment where Emma had worried that Regina would require more treatment than what she could give her. But now it looked like Regina was on her way to recovery. A speedy recovery. 

Or was it? Emma washed the shampoo out of her hair as she considered it. She realized that there was no way of saying just how long Regina had been ill for. She could have been ill for days and Emma wouldn’t be any the wiser. Perhaps her gentleness hadn’t just been kindness. Perhaps it had also been a sign that she wasn’t feeling well. And... hadn’t her eyes been a bit glassy the other day? Hadn’t her voice been hoarser than normally? Hadn’t she been sitting more on the floor rather than walking around? Emma instantaneously felt guilty. She should have been more observant. Been better at picking up on the signs that someone was not feeling well. But she had been so busy marveling at how kind Regina was being to her. And while that had been nice and all, it had also been sort of strange. Emma had gotten so used to Regina’s brusque behavior. 

She conditioned her hair, soaped up her body. Gave it a few minutes and then rinsed both her hair and body. With her shower concluded, she switched off the water, wrenched water out of her hair and then draped a towel tightly around her body. She was halfway towards the door when she remembered that her clothes was in the bathroom with her. She couldn’t do what she normally would have. Which would have been to walk back to her little bedroom wearing only the towel and then change into her clothes. Not today. She was NOT gonna walk into the bedroom in just the towel. Supposed Regina woke up and saw her? Or even worse, if she woke up when Emma was in the middle of changing into her clothes. That would be terribly humiliating for both of them. 

Emma unwrapped the towel again and quickly toweled herself off. Now she was dry but not warm. She shivered slightly as she slipped on her underwear and then the leggings. The white chorus dress followed suit, and Emma had to twist her arm slightly to button the dress in the back. Next she sorted out her hair. Gave it a throughout brushing and then tied it back in her usual braid. She did felt tempted to let it hang loose like she did in the evening when she went to the lair, but she knew that her hair would only tangle if she left it hanging loose when wet. She added a touch of mascara to her eyelashes like she always did, but she couldn’t resist temptation and had to apply some red lipstick to her lips. She didn’t typically wear red lipstick so early, but at some point Regina would wake up. And when that happened, Emma did not want to look like a little girl.

Now she was done and ready for the day. She left the bathroom and returned to the little bedroom. 

The sound of the shower had not woken Regina. She was still fast asleep. Peacefully asleep. Good. Emma hoped that her condition would not deteriorate during the day, and she felt so terrible for having to leave Regina. As Emma stood and looked at Regina, she realized that her backpack was still in the lair. Oops. She needed that backpack. All of her notes and things were in that backpack. 

So she walked over to the mirror. Gently pushed it open and slipped through the hidden hole. It almost felt strange to walk through the passageway during the day. That wasn’t how she normally did this thing. But at least she could see where she was going. It wasn’t quite as dark as it was during the night...

In the lair, Emma found her backpack exactly where she had left it last night. She grabbed it, slipped it on and then went back through the passageway. Undoubtedly her fastest trip to the lair ever, but since Regina was not here, there wasn’t much reason to stay here. The lair sort of lost its magic when The Phantom of the Opera was not here. 

When she came back to her room, Regina was still fast asleep, and Emma smiled a little as she as quietly as possibly closed the mirror shut behind her. She reached within her backpack and found the sandwich and two chocolate cookies she had brought for Regina last night. Despite having spent a night in Emma’s backpack, the food was still fresh. Emma left the sandwich and two cookies on the nightstand in case Regina was hungry when she woke up. Then she went into the bathroom where she poured a glass of nice cold water. She left that on the nightstand too. Along with two aspirins and the bottle of cough drops. She would have loved to make a cup of tea for Regina as well, but if Regina was going to be asleep for a long time, the tea would be all cold when she woke up. And that would be a shame. Nobody liked cold tea. 

Now there was nothing else she could do for Regina. She had everything she needed, and Emma should be going. Otherwise she would be late for breakfast. And for the morning rehearsal. She didn’t want to go. Not even the littlest bit. But there was no way around it. If she did not show up, it would cause suspicion. And after the whole blunder last night where she had hummed a forbidden song in front of Ruby, suspicion was the last thing Emma needed. She needed to keep her head down and mind her own business so Ruby would loose interest in her. 

So she grabbed her usual grey cardigan, adjusted her glasses, and left the room. Of course she made sure to lock the door from the outside....

Downstairs in the canteen, Emma found her usual bowl of porridge and a cup of tea and then settled down by a table. It didn’t take long before she got company. Lily showed up with her usual morning chipperness, asking how Emma had slept and how she was feeling this morning. Emma answered ‘good’ to both questions and then let Lily do the talking. That was easier. And Lily was very good at keeping the conversation going. 

A few minutes after Lily had shown up, Belle appeared in the canteen. Unaccompanied. That was rare. Normally, Belle and Ruby would arrive together. It was weird seeing one of them without the other, Emma thought. And it was also weird seeing Belle look so cross. She was normally a very chill, laid back person, but today her mouth was drawn into a scowl. She scanned the canteen, clearly searching for someone. 

Emma kept her head down. Didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Didn’t want Belle to see her. She did not have a fall out with Belle, but she didn’t want to do this in front of Lily. Lily would ask questions. Emma, who had already lied far more than ever in her life, would be forced to tell her about the argument she’d had with Ruby. Her lie regarding what the argument had been about, would be clumsy and not very believable. That was one of the prices Emma had to pay for lying. One convincing lie and then a string of bad ones. There was also the risk that Lily would tell her mom about the argument between Emma and Ruby, and lying to Ruby and Lily was one thing, but lying to Malena? Impossible.   
It was better to keep her head down and pray that Belle didn’t see her. 

Which she didn’t. She found a table somewhere in the crowd, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. And thanked herself for having stuck with the braid. She was easier to recognize with her hair down. 

A couple of minutes after Belle’s arrival, Ruby too showed up in the canteen. She did what her girlfriend had done and scanned the canteen. But she was clearly looking for Belle. Not Emma. Thank god.

Emma watched discreetly as Ruby found Belle and walked over to her table. She obviously could not hear what was being said, but after a second or two, Ruby sat down. Belle did not seem terribly keen on her company, though. She did not look at Ruby while she spoke, and her answers seemed equally short too. 

When she was angry yesterday, Emma probably would have felt a cruel satisfaction. But today there was only guilt left. It was her fault that Belle and Ruby weren’t speaking. It was her fault that one of the sweetest couples in the opera house were on bad terms. Yes, although Emma had not asked Belle to stick up for her, she still felt guilty. Because Belle was punishing Ruby for something that wasn’t true. Ruby HAD been right for jumping down Emma’s throat about this. Emma WAS keeping things from Ruby, who had been Christine Daaé’s best friend. She was keeping the secret about The Phantom of The Opera. And today in a very literal way too. But Emma didn’t know what had happened to Christine. She was not keeping that from Ruby. And Ruby thought that Regina was guilty of something. While Emma KNEW that Regina was not. 

Emma did her best to ignore Belle and Ruby as she continued eating her breakfast and chitchatted with Lily. She was rather excited this morning. Because of another upcoming trip away from the opera house. Once again, the choir-members would be given what Lily called ‘half-free’ reigns to roam about in Paris. A kind of reward for all the time and effort they had put into rehearsals. And a last chance to relax a bit before the masquerade and big concert. 

“When’s it gonna be then?” Emma asked between mouthfuls of porridge. 

“Next month. Fourteen days before the masquerade ball,” Lily replied, grinning. “It’s gonna be so much fun, don’t you think?” 

“Mhmm, yeah,” Emma said and put on a smile. She wasn’t so sure about that. It hadn’t been that long since she had been in the city with Lily, and Paris centrum had been a big, noisy place full of people during the day. Emma dreaded to imagine how it would be at night. A thousand times worse, she was certain. She wasn’t so sure she would be going. She would come up with an excuse. A sore throat. An upset stomach. A headache that refused to be tamed with medicine. Anything. And when the rest of the choir along with the teachers had left the opera house, she would be going down below to spend the evening with Regina instead. That would be far better than going to Paris and mingle with a huge crowd. Emma had never quite seen the purpose in that. 

Satisfied with her decision, she resumed eating her porridge. Only stopping to talk briskly with Lily. She was acting today, she reminded herself. Playing a role. The role of Emma Swan, the girl from the small town. The girl standing in the back row of the choir. The girl who knew nothing opera phantoms and strange songs. The girl who most certainly was NOT keeping The Phantom of the Opera in her room.. 

Emma pushed all her secrets aside as she ate her breakfast. She was even able to ignore the prickling sensation at the back of her neck, telling her that Ruby was looking at her. Again. But so what? If Ruby wanted to look at her, so be it. She couldn’t prove anything. A song hummed for a few seconds were hardly the proof of anything. And besides, if questioned, if pushed, could Ruby really be CERTAIN that it had in fact been ‘Think of Me’ that Emma was humming last night? It could have been a different song. Something that sounded similar. It was easy to claim that if asked again. Emma’s position in all this was safe. Secure. She couldn’t be touched. Not by Ruby. Not by ANYONE....

The rehearsal after breakfast went as it always did. Emma sang from her spot in the backrow. Ruby was the center of attention and had to concentrate solely on singing. Therefore she couldn’t stare at Emma. Emma was rather relieved about that. Because Ruby had been staring a lot when they walked into the auditorium. But she had not been looking angry. More like... questioningly. Searching. Emma wasn’t so sure she was comfortable with that. She would much rather have preferred if Ruby still had been upset with her. That would have made it easier to lie and keep up the façade. 

But strange looks aside, Emma found it much easier to concentrate on singing today. Once or twice she had caught herself glancing up towards Box Five only to feel amused upon remembering that Regina definitely not would be there. Because she was asleep up in Emma’s room. Or was she? Perhaps she had woken up by now. If that was the case, Emma was wondering what the Phantom’s state of mind would be like. Perhaps she was angry that Emma had brought her into her rom. Or perhaps she was not even there anymore. Maybe she had left Emma’s room and gone back to the lair. 

Emma hoped that was not the case. Because if it was, it could only mean one thing... That Regina really was angry with her. Emma wasn’t so sure how to cope with that. Not after everything that had happened last night. The argument with Ruby. Finding Regina so ill in the lair. She hoped that she would be able to explain to the Phantom that she had only brought her up to her room to help her. To make sure she didn’t get more sick. But would Regina listen to her? That was the big question. Emma had come to know Regina more and more over these past months, and she knew that when Regina was upset or irritated, she was far too busy spewing venom to listen to anything or anyone. 

“Wonderful,” Malena said when they were done singing. “Once again, please.”

The choir started singing again with Ruby as their front figure. Emma’s mouth overtook singing the song she knew so well, and she found herself drifting back to thinking about Regina again. She had looked so peaceful when asleep this morning. Peaceful and.... and beautiful. Emma felt a warmth flutter in her chest and did nothing in particular to make the feeling go away. She knew that she should not be feeling like this about Regina. For so many reasons. One of them being that Regina was so much older than her, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t deny how she felt about Regina. How hard it had been to leave her this morning. Emma was so afraid that the Phantom would be gone when she came back to the room. And she was even more afraid that Regina would be angry at her. Emma had no problem with remembering angry Regina. The time where Regina had chased her out of the lair was still very fresh in her mind. That had indeed been terrifying, and even though that was quite a while ago now, and Regina hadn’t been angry like that for a very long time, you never knew. 

“Again,” Malena demanded when they had stopped singing. “From the top, please.” 

Emma felt a twinge of annoyance as she started singing once again. If only this rehearsal would end so she could make up some excuse to go to her room. Maybe she wasn’t gazing around to check if she could catch a glimpse of Regina in Box Five, but Regina was still very much on her mind. 

“Wonderful,” Malena praised. “I think we’ll try that again. But without the choir this time. Ruby, if you please,” she switched on the background music once more, and Ruby started singing. Moved about on stage with confidence. Like a professional. The movement sort of reminded Emma of Regina. She too liked to walk around in the lair. Often when Emma sang. At first, it had made Emma nervous when   
Regina walked back and forward behind her while she sang, but now she found it to be kind of thrilling. Knowing that Regina was right behind her, made all the little hairs in the back of her neck stand up, but not in an uncomfortable manner. Not at all. 

Emma was suddenly reminded of the time where Regina was standing behind her with her fingers splayed wide over Emma’s collarbone. Emma almost fell out of the rhythm when she remembered how Regina had swayed her back and forward whilst humming softly in her ear. It had left Emma completely delirious and unable to sleep when she came back to her room. Regina had never offered any explanation as to why she had done it, and she had not done it since either. Unfortunately. 

Emma brought a hand up to her cheek as she sang. Her brain was coming up with all kinds of memories, and right now she was remembering how Regina had touched her cheek not too long ago. Well, no. Not really. She had stopped with her hand inches away from Emma’s face. Emma had been the one to lean in and connect her cheek with Regina’s hand. Her cold, cold hand. 

Emma snapped out of it and paid attention to Ruby. She was a wonderful performer. A natural. Perhaps Emma dared ‘performing’ when she was in the safety of Regina’s lair, but it was different on stage. When it came to performing on stage, Emma would never have the same kind of courage as Ruby had. Her ‘fifteen minutes of fame’ those months ago did not count. That had merely been.... Well, to be honest, Emma wasn’t quite sure WHAT that had been. An impulse. Stupidity. Or perhaps simply the aching urge to impress Regina who had been present in the auditorium that afternoon. Yes, that was what it had been. She had wanted to impress Regina. That was why she had been bold enough to sing on stage in front of the choir. But it was still different from what Ruby did. She performed in front of   
EVERYONE. Not just the choir. Ruby was brave. As Emma stood there and watched her sing, she felt even more guilty for lying. But there was literally no other options....

At last, the rehearsal ended, and Emma felt undeservedly lucky when Malena announced that they were allowed a fifteen minute long break to ‘get some tea and soak their precious vocal cords’. Most of the choir members opted for taking their tea in the canteen and enjoy each other’s company while relaxing. But Emma, who just so happened to have a kettle in her room, could ever so easily and casually say that she would nip back to her own room instead. 

She left the auditorium along with the rest of her choir, but when they went left towards the canteen, she went right towards the staircase leading up to the dormitory instead. 

“Emma?” 

Emma automatically turned around when she heard her name being called, but when she saw WHO was calling her name, she stubbornly turned around. She had absolutely no interest in talking to Ruby.   
Too complicated. Way too complicated. Not here. Not now. 

“Emma, please wait!” Ruby called. 

But Emma was already halfway up the stairs. And it was easy to pretend that she hadn’t heard Ruby. In many ways, it would be much easier if she and Ruby didn’t talk anymore. Yes, Ruby had been a friend. A good friend. But she was getting too close to the truth. Emma couldn’t take that risk. If Ruby, best friend of Christine Daaé discovered Emma’s secret and jumped the conclusions, everything would surely unravel. Regina would be seized by the police and end up in prison. Convicted of the murder of Christine Daaé. 

Emma’s breath hitched as she ran the rest of the way up the first staircase. No. That absolutely could not happen. She, Emma Swan was going to keep Regina safe. And if that meant cutting ties with Ruby permanently, then so be it. 

“Oh!” Emma yelped and jumped back when she nearly collided with Joseph Bouquet. “I’m so sorry!”

The janitor chuckled slightly as he bowed his head slightly. “No harm, no foul, miss Swan. But be careful on the stairs, though. We don’t need no accidents in this opera house.” With that he continued downstairs, whistling quietly to himself as he went. 

Emma shook her head slightly as she continued upstairs. Joseph Bouquet was an oddball. It wasn’t a very nice thing to think about someone else, she did know that, but it couldn’t be denied. Joseph Bouquet WAS a bit strange. Everyone thought so. More than once, he had ‘entertained’ with stories about ‘the terrifying ghost living in the catacombs’ until one of the teachers came and stopped him. The last time he had made his little stunt, Emma had almost bursted out laughing because the things he was saying about the Phantom of the Opera was so completely ridiculous. His first mistake had been to refer to the Phantom as ‘he’...

Emma unlocked the door to her room and slipped inside as quickly as possible. Just as swiftly, but nevertheless quietly, she closed the door behind her and locked it once more. She really couldn’t risk anyone coming in here. That would be a disaster. 

When she turned back around, she discovered that Regina was not asleep any longer. Instead she was sitting up in the bed with the pillow propped up behind her. Her hair didn’t even look ruffled, so maybe she had been to the bathroom to brush it. She looked better. Her cheeks weren’t nearly as red anymore, but she wasn’t deadly pale either. Her eyes were still a bit glassy, but that was to be expected. Her breathing seemed less strained. The glass of water was empty, the two aspirins were gone, and Emma could see that the bottle of cough drops had been moved slightly to the left. But while Regina’s improved physical condition obviously was a good thing, Emma was more nervous about the Phantom’s mental state. Her expression was completely unreadable. It was impossible to know what was going on inside her head. She didn’t LOOK angry, but still, you could never be sure when it came to Regina. 

“Hi,” Emma said a tad lamely. “You’re awake.” Even more lame. She didn’t have to say that. She could literally SEE that Regina was awake. Idiot. 

Regina only offered a nod in response. 

Emma nervously pushed her glasses up her nose. “How... how are you feeling?” That wasn’t an impolite thing to ask, was it? Considering how ill Regina had been last night....

“Better,” Regina said gruffly. Her voice was slightly hoarser than usually, but she wasn’t slurring her words like she had last night. 

“Oh, good. That’s good.” The glasses was adjusted again. “Do you want a cup of tea? I was just about to make one for myself.” That hadn’t been her original plan, but it sounded better. 

“If you must.” 

Emma grabbed the kettle and quickly headed into the bathroom to fill it with water. She took longer than she normally would. She needed to calm her nerves. She was anxious. Not knowing what Regina was thinking and whether she was angry or not, made her nervous. Regina SEEMED calm enough, but... Her short replies unnerved Emma slightly. Maybe Regina was gathering all her strength to explode in full blown rage. Maybe that was what her short replies was about. Oh boy. Maybe coming back to the room had been a bad idea after all. 

But once she kettle was full, she couldn’t very well drag this out any longer. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. That would be ridiculous.

Emma squared her shoulders, took a breath and lifted her chin. She could do this. She could face the Phantom of the Opera’s potential anger. It wouldn’t be the first time she had done that. 

Regina was still sitting up in bed when Emma came back. She put the kettle back and waited not so patiently for the water to boil. She tugged a lock of stray hair behind her ear. What should she do with herself? Should she say something? Regina wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Was she really that mad? Or maybe she felt worse than she looked. Maybe it was the fever that caused her silence. Or maybe she truly WAS gathering her strength to explode in Emma’s face. Maybe she was going to yell at her. 

She stole a glance at Regina, but Regina didn’t seem to notice it. Her attention was fixed on a point on the wall. She was staring at nothing. Coughing quietly now and then, but not saying anything. Oh, how unnerving her silence was. It felt like every single nerve in Emma’s body was wound tight right now. Bracing themselves for an explosion that could happen any second. 

The kettle started whistling, and Emma absolutely JUMPED at the sound. The whistling seemed louder than ever. It filled the room with its high pitched sound. But Regina didn’t even flinch at it. Her gaze didn’t even flicker. She was like a statue, just sitting there, unreadable expression and without saying anything. 

Emma had never seen another human capable of being so still, and even though she didn’t like referring to Regina as ‘ghost’ there was some truth in the self-proclaimed title right now. Ghostly was indeed the perfect way to describe Regina at the moment. The kettle was still whistling and whining sharply in Emma’s ears. Now was not the time to get lost staring at Regina and wondering what she was thinking. Definitely not the time. Happy to have something to do with herself, she poured all her attention into filling two mugs with hot water and two tea bags from her little box that contained her ‘stash’ of tea. Emma was a huge fan of any kind of tea. Earl Grey was her favorite. Should she have asked which kind of tea Regina asked? 

No. She was afraid of opening her mouth right now. So she settled for setting the mug of tea down on the bedside table so Regina could reach it. 

“Do you... do you want some honey in it?” she offered. She didn’t have any honey in her room, but if Regina wanted some, it would be fairly easy to dash downstairs and grab some. 

Regina shook her head. 

“Some milk then? Sugar?” her voice sounded way too hectic. Why did she sound like this? All breathy and stupid. 

Regina shook her head again. 

Okay, then. Emma carefully balanced her mug of tea in one hand as she sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall to have the strangest cup of tea she’d ever had. Outside, the rain had started tapping against the window, and Emma found the sound more pleasant than ever. Something breaking the silence was a relief. Emma wasn’t sure she could have handled complete silence. She looked down at the tea in her mug. 

“You do of course realize...” Regina said, and Emma nearly tipped the mug in her lap over in pure surprise. “How ridiculously STUPID this is,” she continued and then coughed. 

Emma ducked her head and cringed. 

“It’s idiotic. It’s reckless. It’s an enormous risk to run. An idea formed in the mind of someone who was not thinking straight. And not to mention deeply irresponsible of you,” Regina concluded her sentence. 

Emma cringed again. “I’m sorry, I only wanted to-“

“But,” Regina interrupted and now finally met Emma’s eyes. “I appreciate it.”

Emma lifted her head. “You... you do?” 

“Which makes me the idiot,” Regina said and coughed dryly again. “You are quite the strange girl, miss Swan.” 

“I am?” Emma tilted her head. ”Why?” 

“First you insist upon bandaging my self-inflicted wounds and then you somehow manage to get me all the way up to your room simply because I’m a bit ill one night. You let me sleep in your bed, using your blankets and your pillow, while you yourself opt for sleeping on the floor like a dog. Tell me.... what have I possibly done to deserve such kindness from you?” 

“Well, I...” Emma wasn’t the one who was sick, but her throat suddenly felt very dry. “You... You were more than just a bit ill. And the lair was really cold. I was worried about you.”

“Why?” Regina asked simply and took a small sip of her tea. 

“Because.. Because we’re friends. Right?” Emma had to check. 

“Friends,” Regina repeated. “Yes, I suppose so.” 

“Are you really feeling better?” Emma asked spontaneously. 

“Yes,” Regina said. “Quite a bit.” She took another sip of her tea. 

“Oh, good. That’s really good! And was the bed okay too?”

“As soft as I remember it.”

“Remember it?” Emma frowned slightly.

Regina didn’t answer that. Instead she asked: “so tell me, Little Swan.. What do you normally do before lunch?” 

“Uhm, mostly read,” Emma said truthfully. 

“I see. Then read. I don’t want to disrupt your usual routine.” 

“I disrupt yours all the time,” Emma pointed out, and could swear she saw a little smile dance on Regina’s lips. 

“That is entirely different,” Regina said. “Read.” She sipped her tea again. 

Emma obediently rose from her position on the floor and crouched down in front of her bookshelf, plucking out the first book coming to mind. Regina had not said anything about leaving, so maybe that meant that she wouldn’t. Maybe she would stay a little longer. She didn’t look completely up for going anywhere, to be honest. Emma hoped that she wouldn’t be going back to the cold lair quite yet. 

Once she had found a book to read, Emma had intended to sit down on the floor yet again, with blanket underneath her, and the pillow between her and the wall. But when she was about to sit down,   
Regina scoffed. “You are hardly a dog, miss Swan. The floor is not a suitable place to sit. But I suppose it does make sense to keep your distance at the moment.”

Emma sat down on the bed. Some inches away from Regina. “I am not afraid of getting sick,” she assured. 

Regina scoffed slightly once more, but Emma happily ignored it as she opened the book and began reading. 

“I apologize,” Regina said all the sudden. 

Emma looked up from her book, dumbstruck. “Why?” 

“Everything is sort of fuzzy,” Regina said slowly. “But I do remember bits and pieces. Including calling you by a name that isn’t yours. It was... entirely inappropriate, and I apologize for that.” She cleared her throat and traced her free hand along the white half-mask. 

“You were sick,” Emma said immediately. “We all say weird stuff when we’re sick, right?” 

“Yes. Weird stuff,” Regina repeated. Then she coughed again. Took another sip of her tea. 

No mention of Christine Daaé’s name, but Emma was quite certain they were thinking about the same thing. She had so many questions for Regina. Questions about Christine Daaé. But she was afraid to ask them. She was afraid of overstepping some kind of invisible line. Christine Daaé was a sore subject, no doubt of it. She remained this shadowy figure in Regina’s past, and there were so many things Emma still didn’t know about Christine and Regina’s mysterious friendship. Regina had been Christine’s mentor, exactly like she was Emma’s now, but it was more than that. Regina and Christine had been friends. Good friends. 

Emma stole a glance at Regina and wondered if it would ever be acceptable to ask her about Christine Daaé. Or whether the hope she had that Regina one day would tell her the whole story was in vain.   
Yes, Regina had already told her so much about her past, but perhaps she was drawing the line at Christine Daaé. Perhaps Christine Daaé WAS the invisible line. 

“I don’t think there will be a singing lesson tonight,” Regina suddenly observed and let out a slight laugh that immediately turned into a dry cough. 

“That’s alright,” Emma said softly. “We don’t have to sing every night.”

“Well, what else is there to do?” Regina asked plainly and scoffed. 

“Talking?” Emma suggested. 

Regina scoffed again. “Talking. How tedious of you, Little Swan. Talking often leads to nowhere.”

“I like talking,” Emma protested. “That’s how you get to know someone.”

“And why are you so interested in getting to know me?” Regina shot back. But she didn’t sound particularly hostile. 

“Because...” Emma licked her lips and looked down at the book in her lap. “I find you interesting.” That was true. Regina was the most interesting person she had ever met. 

“You think I’m interesting?” Regina cough-laughed again. “Oh, Little Swan, I assure you... I am far from interesting.”

“Well, I think you are,” Emma said stubbornly.

“Trust me,” Regina said hoarsely and tapped her long fingers against the mask again. “When you leave this place to explore the world.... You’ll forget all about me like that...” she snapped her fingers once to emphasize her words.

Emma didn’t answer. Her throat suddenly felt a little tight. Forgetting Regina? No, that was not possible. Leaving Regina? No. She couldn’t do that either. She wanted to stay. HAD to stay. Because the idea of Regina left on her own in the cold, quiet lair was unbearable. Regina singing quiet, melancholic songs to herself to keep the loneliness at bay. 

Emma didn’t want to think about it. She looked down at the book in her lap once more. Couldn’t concentrate on reading. She closed the book again and took a sip of her own tea. The thought of Regina   
alone in the lair was still haunting her. She couldn’t let that happen. Instinctively, she looked up at Regina. And noticed that Regina was giving the book in her lap an interested look.

“Do you like this one?” Emma asked curiously and tapped the book lightly once.

“Yes. It’s one of my favorites,” Regina quietly repeated. “I too like to read around this time. But I doubt my head would appreciate if I tried.” 

“Oh,” Emma nodded. She took another sip of her tea, opened the book and then cleared her throat: “’Last night I dreamt that I went to Manderley again,’” she hesitantly started. She glanced questioningly up at Regina, but Regina said nothing. She merely made a ‘go on’ motion with her hand. 

So of course Emma continued: “’ It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me. There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate. I called in my dream to the lodge-keeper, and had no answer, and peering closer through the rusted spokes of the gate I saw that the lodge was uninhabited.....’”

God, this day dragged on forever!

It was one very reluctant Emma who left Regina in her room after a few chapters of ‘Rebecca’. She had directly asked Regina if she would be there when Emma came back. Regina had been a bit vague in her answer, but had added that it ‘probably will be a good idea to lock the door’. Emma had done so. But first she had apologized for it. But Regina had merely chuckled hoarsely and then coughed. 

And now Emma was impatiently waiting for the daily chores and rehearsals to be over with. Concentrating about singing was hard when she knew there was a chance Regina was still in her room. It was only by some miracle she avoided catching everybody’s attention because her mind was everywhere but at the lesson. Her mouth did the job of singing while the rest of her was back in her room, still reading aloud from ‘Rebecca’ to Regina. She could tell that Regina had appreciated that a lot. She hadn’t said anything, just sat quietly and listened as Emma read. At some point, she had tipped her head back and closed her eyes. It had looked like she had fallen asleep, but when Emma stopped reading, Regina had immediately urged her to continue. And so Emma had kept reading and reading. For so long she almost had forgotten the time. Regina had actually been the one to ask her if she wasn’t supposed to be somewhere else. 

And yes, she had indeed been supposed to be somewhere else. But at the time she had sort of been ready to simply not show up for the rest of her lessons. An innocent little lie about having fallen ill. But Regina had acted every bit like a teacher as she urged Emma to get a move on.

Emma hadn’t dared arguing with her mentor. And especially not when said mentor was unwell. So she had gathered her things and left. But right now, she wished that she hadn’t. She wished she was back in her room. Reading to Regina had been so nice. She was still afraid that Regina would be gone when she came back. She hadn’t specifically said that she would stay. Maybe she would get bored, staying in a locked room all day. Emma felt bad about locking Regina in. She was afraid that it would remind Regina of her childhood and the horrible mother who had locked her in. 

Emma shifted a little from her position in the backrow. She wasn’t singing any longer. She couldn’t concentrate. And nobody seemed to notice either. Mme. Carlotta was much too busy paying attention to Ruby and instructing her. Emma had never been more grateful for standing in the backrow and blending in with the rest of the choir. Never had her status as a wallflower been more welcome than it was today. Not even Lily seemed to be paying attention to her. Perhaps she had something else on her mind. Exactly like Emma had. 

Emma opened her mouth and lip-synched her way through the rehearsal. Nobody noticed. Apparently, she was doing a fine job at pretending. 

After lunch came more rehearsals, and after those, at last dinner. Emma had never ate dinner quicker than she did tonight. She choked several times and had to cough into a napkin. And she hadn’t been less subtle about stealing food either. She took a couple of cheese sandwiches and two chocolate bars. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the two chocolate cookies had been gone when she came back to her room earlier today. Regina clearly had a sweet tooth even when sick, and Emma wanted to do something nice for her. And especially when she was ill. 

Once done eating (and stealing), Emma rose from her chair and slipped her backpack on. She left the canteen with her head held high and ignored Ruby who was looking at her again. Pretending to be angry with Ruby was a great way to avoid talking to her. The longer she could keep this up, the better. 

“Emma?” 

Said blonde gnashed her teeth and urged herself to keep walking. Not jerk her head just because Ruby had just said her name. She did not have time for this. And she did not want to either. Ruby was.... Well, she was almost a threat now. Or at least she could become one if Emma didn’t create some distance between the two of them. 

So she cruelly ignored Ruby’s attempt at talking to her and continued out of the canteen. It had to be like this. A part of her wanted to tell Ruby the truth. But Ruby would not understand it. Instead she would get the wrong idea. That Regina had something to do with what had happened to Christine. Emma feared that her innocent humming had started a snowball of sorts. That Ruby’s slight suspicion was only the beginning of it. What if she would keep snooping? Or even worse... What if she went to Malena with her suspicion? That would be the absolute worse thing to happen. Perhaps it was better to take that confrontation with Ruby. Get things sorted out in a way that would assure Ruby that Emma knew absolutely nothing about the Phantom of the Opera and that it hadn’t been ‘Think of Me’ she had been humming, but another, completely different song that just sounded a lot like it. Yes. Yes, she would tell Ruby that the next time she tried to talk to her. Not right now. She was much too busy. Regina was probably hungry now. She hadn’t eaten anything all day except for two chocolate cookies, and that was hardly enough to make anyone feel full. 

If Regina was still there, that was. There WAS a chance that she had left while Emma was attending her rehearsals and doing her homework. Emma hoped that wasn’t the case, but at the same time, she knew that she couldn’t prevent Regina from leaving if she wanted to. But she COULD go down to the lair with her food and stay for a while. Just to make sure that Regina really was feeling better. She had a feeling that Regina wouldn’t tell her to leave tonight. She had seemed so... grateful when Emma read to her. Had even smiled a little under the mask, and that smile was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen. 

Emma met no one on her way back from the canteen. Not even the janitor. She was glad about that. She feared that someone had spotted her stealing food. She had been horribly indiscrete about it today. She had managed to keep Regina’s presence in her room a secret all night. She would NOT be busted because she was stealing food, damnit!

Emma hurried up the last staircase, and finally, finally she was standing outside the door to her room. She listened for a second after having found her key in her pocket. She couldn’t hear anything. Maybe that meant that Regina truly wasn’t there. Emma squashed a twinge of disappointment as she inserted the key into the lock. The lock made a clicking sound, and Emma removed the key and stuffed it inside her pocket again. Then she opened the door and slipped inside, quickly closing the door behind her. 

“Hello.”   
Emma turned around, pleasantly surprised, and extremely delighted. Regina was still there! She was sitting on her bed, ‘Rebecca’ splayed open in her lap and absentmindedly playing with a lock of her dark hair. 

“Hi!” Emma couldn’t stop herself from grinning. 

“How was the lessons?” Regina asked. Almost drawled.

“A bit boring,” Emma said truthfully and made a face. “Are you still feeling better?” 

“Quite,” Regina replied. “But I’m hungry.” 

“I’ve brought you food,” Emma revealed and came over to the bed. She slung off her backpack, opened it and found the cheese sandwich. 

“How nice,” Regina said and didn’t even sound like she was being sarcastic. “It’s rather extraordinary what a day’s illness can do to your appetite.” 

Emma chuckled as she handed the cheese sandwich to Regina. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” 

“I decided to get some more rest,” Regina said calmly. “That was not a problem, was it?” 

“No! Of course not!” Emma exclaimed, rushing to assure. “Definitely not! I just wasn’t sure that you- what I mean to say, is that I’m glad you’re still here. That’s all.” She found herself blushing ridiculously and had to push a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Are you indeed?” Regina quietly murmured and shot Emma a certain look of disdain. She didn’t like that kind of talk. 

Emma reminded herself that she was not allowed to say such things to Regina. She didn’t want Regina to know the truth about how she felt. That was as dangerous as Ruby’s growing suspicion of her.   
Maybe it would even be worse if Regina discovered how Emma really felt about her. That would ruin everything. Emma couldn’t risk that either. 

“Is the sandwich okay?” she asked instead. 

Regina lowered said sandwich to answer. “Mm, yes, it’s fine. Very.... nourishing.” 

Emma chuckled softly. She had never heard the word ‘nourishing’ being used about a simple cheese sandwich. But then she remembered that there had been a point in Regina’s life where she did not know when her next meal would be, and she immediately felt bad for being amused by Regina’s choice of words.

“I have another one for you in the bag,” she revealed. “And two cookies too.” 

“You really are trying to ruin my teeth, aren’t you,” Regina said. But she was definitely smiling while saying it. 

Emma smiled back. Regina had a really lovely smile. A cold-blooded killer, she called herself. What nonsense. Emma saw no cold-blooded killer in that smile. She only saw a woman who had been through more than most people. Her experiences had hardened her, yes, but there was still some kindness left in her too. And Emma found that to be rather incredible. 

“What songs did you rehearse today?”

Emma willingly gave Regina the names of the songs she and the choir had rehearsed today followed by a: “but I would rather have rehearsed your songs. They’re better.” 

“Of course they are,” Regina said simply and sounded very much like she was teasing when she continued: “perhaps you even a favorite?” 

“Think of Me,” Emma said in a heartbeat. 

“Mm. Not bad. Not my first choice, but that is a decent song too.” 

Emma nodded. Mentioning ‘Think of Me’ had made her think about her stupidity again. Seriously, how could she have hummed that song in front of Ruby? 

“What is it?” Regina asked. “I can see that there’s something on your mind, Little Swan, so you might as well just spit it out.” 

“I’ve done something stupid,” Emma mumbled. 

“Haven’t we all?” Regina scoffed. “And what, pray tell, is that?” 

Emma looked down at her hands in her lap. And then she told Regina about the blunder she had made yesterday. Humming the forbidden song in front of Ruby and Belle. 

Regina did not look very pleased when Emma was done telling, and Emma felt quite terrible as she muttered: “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking...” 

“Well,” Regina said. “You obviously have to sort out that mistake. Soon. We can’t have her running around and asking questions. It is important that I remain a ghost. I’ve already attracted too much   
attention once. The chandelier...” she shook her head. “Perhaps a tad reckless of me, but I was... quite angry. I wanted justice. I still want justice.”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. Justice for Christine. If there was a way she could help Regina with that, she would. 

Knock-knock-knock-knock! 

Emma flinched at the sound, and Regina looked up too. 

Knock-knock-knock! “Emma?” 

Ruby. As summoned by their conversation. Emma’s heart skipped a beat. Of course. She had called out to her and clearly wasn’t letting it stay with that. 

“Emma?” Ruby called again. “I know that you’re in there, okay? I saw you leave. I just wanna talk to you!”

Emma saw the doorknob being pressed down, and to her horror, she remembered that she had forgotten to lock the door. She had been much too busy being happy that Regina was still here. 

“Emma!” Ruby called a third time. “It can’t continue like this! I’m coming in!” 

The doorknob was pressed down once more, and Emma was just about to yell ‘no!’ to Ruby when Regina swiftly leapt from the bed. In a heartbeat, she was standing at the wall, at the spot where the door   
would be in a moment. The perfect hiding place. She put a finger on her lip in warning, and Emma’s heart skipped several beats when the door was opened all the way. Regina disappeared behind it, and Ruby stepped inside. 

“Hey,” Ruby said awkwardly and flashed Emma a smile. Then she grabbed at the door to close it again. 

“Keep it open!” Emma said, making sure to make her voice sound cold and disinterested. 

“Emma,” Ruby sighed, but it worked. She left the door where it was. 

“What do you want?” Emma asked and folded her arms across her chest. 

“To talk to you,” Ruby repeated. 

“Well. I don’t really want to talk to you.” That wasn’t a lie. 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Ruby said and brushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. “The way I talked to you wasn’t okay, I know that. I was jumping down your throat..”

“Yes. You were.” God, Emma felt terrible about this! But she had to keep a straight face. Had to keep lying. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” Ruby said, and she sounded genuinely sorry. “I... I fucked up. But I just... I got worried about you.” 

Emma pursed her lips. “That is not an excuse to talk to me like that, Ruby. You are turning an innocent thing into something it is not.” 

Ruby shifted uncomfortably. “So, you really don’t know that song you were humming?”

“What song, Ruby?” Emma sighed and feigned exasperation. “You keep talking like it was a particular song, but it literally wasn’t! I can’t even remember which song I was humming anymore.” My god,   
when had she gotten so good at lying? Emma was absolutely shocked at herself. 

“It just really sounded like-“

“Ruby,” Emma interrupted. “You are making this into something that it is not. I’m not... I’m not Christine, okay? I know that you still miss her, but...”

“Yeah,” Ruby softly murmured. “I miss her every day. And I’m still struggling to understand what happened to her. All her evasive answers. Her riddles in the darkness...” she shook her head. “Her talk   
about some ‘angel of music’ tutoring her.. half of the time I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. Not that I think Christine was lying, but you gotta admit that it sounds strange, right?”

“It does,” Emma dry-mouthed agreed. “Very.”

“And when I heard you hum that song that sounded like one of hers, I guess I was reminded of her talk about ‘the phantom of the opera’...” Ruby shook her head and shifted in the door opening. “I was overreacting, I know, but so would you if you had heard the stuff she said. It was like she was obsessed or bewitched or whatever.” 

Emma settled for a slight headshake and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek as she silently urged Ruby to leave, leave, leave! God, Regina was literally standing behind the door, and if Ruby lingered too long....

Ruby shifted again. Tried for a little smile as she jokingly said: “you wouldn’t happen to know anything about ‘the phantom of the opera’, right?” 

“No,” Emma said, the dismissive word effortlessly slipping from her tongue. “Definitely not.” 

“I figured as much,” Ruby half-chuckled. “Anyway, I’m sorry that I was such a bitch yesterday. Do you think you can forgive me?” 

“I’ll work on it,” Emma assured, smiling tightly. Was Regina holding her breath or something? She was being dead silent. Surely, she wasn’t being crushed by the door, right? 

“Thanks, Em,” Ruby smiled. “I really appreciate that. I promise that I wont overreact like that again.” 

“It’s okay,” Emma said and returned the smile. “Really, it is.” she deliberately glanced at her backpack. “I don’t mean to kick you out or anything, but I actually have a lot of homework, so...”

“Right. Gotcha,” Ruby nodded. “See you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Goodnight, then. “

“Goodnight, Ruby.” 

Emma held her breath when Ruby turned around and left her room, closing the door on the way. Regina appeared from her hiding spot, and the breath literally exploded out of Emma as she leapt off the bed and rushed over to the door. In a manner of seconds, she had locked the door. The clicking sound was so very reassuring! 

“Well, that was interesting,” Regina murmured quietly as she went back to Emma’s bed and sat down. 

“Y-yeah,” Emma mumbled. God, that was close! 

Regina chuckled, and Emma spun around and stared at her. Regina couldn’t seriously be thinking that this was FUNNY, could she?! 

“Look at you lying until you’re blue in the face, Little Swan,” Regina chuckled and shook her head, sending her dark curls bouncing around her face. “That was very impressive.” 

“I had to say something,” Emma defended. “Make sure that she didn’t-“

“As I said, impressive,” Regina interrupted, still amused. “You wouldn’t have been able to lie like that a few months ago. I’ve corrupted you.” 

“You haven’t,” Emma muttered and didn’t know why the word ‘corrupted’ made her feel all flustered. 

Regina ignored her and kept joking: “now I owe you a favor, Little Swan.” 

“For what?” Emma blinked. 

“For not revealing me, obviously,” Regina drawled. “So, do you have any requests? Any burning desires? How about a falling chandelier? I’m quite skilled when it comes to that.” 

Emma couldn’t hold back a gasp. 

“No?” Regina said with feigned surprise and looked at her with her dark eyes. “Alright. No chandeliers then. I wasn’t expecting that from you, to be honest.” She adjusted on the bed and brushed a hand over her skirt. “Is there anything else I do to offer my gratitude?” she laughed hoarsely. Still joking. 

But Emma was not. Because she had once again remembered that one thing she so wanted. The ONLY thing she wanted. “The masquerade,” she mumbled. 

“What? Miss Swan, you know I can’t stand when you’re muttering-“ 

“The masquerade,” Emma said a little louder and totally interrupted Regina. 

Regina squinted at her. “What about the masquerade?” 

“I was wondering if you- if we could-“ Emma blushed like an idiot and pushed her glasses up her nose. “If you and I could attend-“

“No.” 

“But-“ 

“No,” Regina repeated, and Emma saw the muscles in her sharp jaw tighten. “That is something you absolutely cannot ask of me, do you hear me?!” 

“But...” Emma’s throat tightened. “You... You went with...” she did not dare uttering Christine Daaé’s name.

Regina’s eyes darkened. “That was different. Very different. Nobody knew of my existence then. Going to something as silly as a ball would be a ridiculous risk to take. And I already told you, I destroy   
everything I touch.” 

“Because of what happened with-“ Emma didn’t want to utter Sébastien’s name either. “But that was an accident.”

“An accident that I strangled a man and didn’t stop until he was dead?” Regina dryly asked. 

Emma rephrased. “It was self-defense.”

“Perhaps,” Regina agreed. “But Daniela Khan was not.” 

“Who’s Daniela Khan?” Emma asked confused. She had not heard that name before. 

“The daughter of Nadir Khan.”

“The man who found you sleeping in his house,” Emma nodded. She remembered his name.” 

“That’s right,” Regina confirmed. “I had drifted about in Paris for quite a while when Nadir found me in his basement. I must have been around... sixteen or seventeen. Eighteen at most.” 

Oh. Regina was going to tell her another part of her story. Emma walked over to the bed and sat down next to Regina. 

“I remember being so tired when I found a house where the door to the basement was unlocked,” Regina continued. “It seemed like meant to be. I went inside, fell asleep and did not wake up until a man   
was suddenly standing over me. I remember that I of course wanted to run because I thought he was going to summon the authorities. But he did not. Instead he called me ‘dear boy’ and asked me if I was hurt and what my name was.” she shook her head slightly. “As you know, I was living as a young man at the time. I told him that my name was Erik and that I was not hurt. He then asked for my surname. I said ‘Destler’. It was the first thing coming to mind, and then I begged him not to call the police on me, but he told me that had never been his intention. Instead he invited me upstairs for breakfast. I thought it was a trap or that he wanted something in return. But he did not. He was simply a kind man. I ate breakfast with him, and he asked where I came from. I didn’t tell him, of course. Then he asked if I had a place to stay at. I’m fairly certain that he already knew the answer to that. I told him that I did not and that it was just me. He offered that I could stay with him. He even offered me a job. He was in the middle of remodeling his entire house and could use some help. I knew nothing of remodeling, but I was sick of living in the streets and Nadir Khan was the first kind person I had met. So I said yes.” She paused and took a bite of her sandwich. 

Emma wondered what had happened. Nadir Khan sounded like the person Regina had been looking for. A stability. A home. 

“He was a widower,” Regina continued. “His wife had died a few years prior and left him with the responsibility of his daughter, Daniela. I had only lived in the house for fourteen days when she arrived   
home from her boarding school. She was around the same age as me. Perhaps a year younger. She looked like a fawn. Big brown eyes and dark hair. I could see how much she looked like her mother, and she seemed very happy when I told her that....” Regina paused for a moment and then mused to herself: “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

Emma wasn’t sure what to say to that. So she simply waited until Regina was ready to continue. 

Which she was after a moment of coughing. “Nadir introduced me as ‘Erik, the young man I told you about’,” she said slightly hoarsely and made a face as she cleared her throat. “It struck me that Daniela seemed... very enthusiastic in her greeting, but at the time I thought nothing of it. She was only spending two weeks at home, and the fewer people I interacted with, the better. I was already tricking Nadir into believing that I was a young man, and that was one person too many. You must understand that Nadir Khan did not have a bad bone in him. He is the kindest, most generous man I have ever met.” 

“It sounds like you were happy there,” Emma said softly. 

“Oh, I was,” Regina sighed. “For a while, I was very happy. I had a nice, soft bed to sleep in, clean clothes to put on my body, access to food whenever I wanted, and I had found a kind of father figure in a stranger. That’s how I started seeing Nadir. As my father. He was so good to me. Even though I wasn’t very talented when it came to remodeling a home at first. He taught me everything I know, and I eventually got the hang of it. Things could have been so good.” She sighed again. “But Daniela, she... she kept postponing her trip back to the boarding school. She and her father had many talks about that, and one morning Nadir told me that Daniela would not be going back. She was not happy there, he said. Something about a young man who had broken her heart. Nadir would start search for school closer to where he lived. That way, Daniela could be at home instead. She was happy about that. There had been many times where I had passed by her room during the night and had heard her cry herself to sleep. But that stopped when it was decided that she was not to return to the school. And the boy who had broken her heart.”

“But what does that have to do with you?” Emma dared asking. 

Regina let out a dark chuckle. “Everything, I’m afraid, Little Swan. You see, Daniela started being in the same places as I was. Constantly and conveniently being in the part of the house I was working on. At first, I thought nothing of it. I exchanged a few pleasantries with her at first. A few kind words here and there. Then I mostly just found it annoying, but was too polite to say anything to her or Nadir. It wasn’t until one morning where she was not present, he laughed and told me that he believed his daughter had a.... ‘crush’ on me, as he put it. He said that she had ‘fallen in love’ with me. Then he smiled in a way that suggested it was the best thing that could possibly have happened. I was shocked. And later I panicked. This was NOT the best thing that could have happened. Daniela had a crush on Erik Destler. But I was not Erik Destler. I was not that young man I tricked Nadir and Daniela into believing that I was. And I knew that if Daniela would figure out my real identity, she would undoubtedly tell her father. So I was in trouble. Again. A very small lie had turned disastrous. I hoped that things would blow over when Daniela started at her new school and found an actual boy to be interested in. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with Nadir who had been so good to me. So I tried to be patient with the situation.” Regina interrupted herself and coughed dryly. Made a face. 

Emma opened her mouth to offer Regina more cough drops, but Regina shook her head. “Getting through this story without medicine seems like a fair punishment.”

“Punishment for what?” Emma whispered. 

“But Daniela was very persistent,” Regina said instead of answering Emma’s questions. “She kept appearing everywhere I was. Asking me many questions about myself, and got frustrated when I didn’t answer them in a satisfying way. She heavily implied that she would like to go out with me on several occasions and wasn’t one bit pleased when I either dodged her attempts or pretended that I didn’t get the hint. I think the problem was that I was all the things the boy from her school was not. Quiet. Reserved. Shy. The more I pulled away from her, the more interested she got. She wanted to know all about me. Including why I was wearing a mask. She thought it was some kind of accessory first. Perhaps I should have told her that it was. Perhaps that would have lessened her curiosity. Because she only grew more persistent and interested when I told her that it was not. That I was born with a.... problem.” Her mouth twitched a little, and Emma reached out and put a hand over Regina’s. 

Regina did not brush her hand off. “She got so much worse after that. Asked me the same questions over and over again. My mask was like a magnet. There was no stopping her. She kept asking. For ‘a peek’ as she called it. She just wanted to see what was under the mask one time. Then she would never ask me about it again. Or so she said. She kept implying that it couldn’t possibly ‘be that bad’, and she more than implied that it wouldn’t matter to her. It wouldn’t change her feelings for me. She didn’t understand WHY I didn’t return her feelings. And she didn’t understand that she wasn’t in love with me but simply looking for consolation after having her heart broken by that boy. She insisted that I was wrong when I told her my ‘theory’. She insisted that she was deeply in love with me, and she got very angry with me when I dared suggesting otherwise.”

“But she had no right to be angry with you,” Emma pointed out. 

Regina chuckled darkly. “She was looking for something in me, Little Swan. Something I couldn’t give her. Stability. Security. She always said that I wasn’t like ‘other guys’. Oh, how right she was. I couldn’t risk her finding out that I was not Erik Destler. That Erik Destler did not exist and never had in the first place. I didn’t want her to tell her father that I had lied to him for months and months. And I wasn’t interested in Daniela either. I was not in any position to welcome her affection. I was much too broken for that.”

“You’re not broken,” Emma whispered. 

Regina ignored that too. “One evening when Nadir was not home, I was working on the roof. I had advanced quite a bit since arriving at the Khan house seven months prior. I had become quite skilled at roofing, and I actually really enjoyed it. Being closer to the sky and all that. I was minding my own business and doing my job when Daniela suddenly showed up again. I could smell the alcohol in her breath and could tell that she had been out drinking. She did that a lot to nurse her broken heart. But she had had too much to drink that night. She yelled at me and demanded that I stopped working. I looked at her and asked if there was something wrong. She yelled again. Wanted to know what she needed to do in order to get my attention. Wanted to know why I did not like her, etc. I told her that I did like her, just not in that way. She didn’t like that. She started crying and asked why she wasn’t ‘good enough’ for me. I tried to ignore her, but she just kept asking and asking, and in her drunken state, she reached for my mask and screamed that she wanted me to take it off. She wanted to see what was so ‘damned secret it had to stay hidden’. I was reaching my limit. After months and months of her asking about it and trying to coax me into taking off my mask, I couldn’t take anymore.” Regina took a breath and her features darkened. “So I yanked off my mask. Turned to face her and yelled if this was what she wanted to see. Of course she screamed in horror. She stumbled backwards, and just like that, she.... fell.”

“Fell?” Emma murmured. 

“From the roof,” Regina whispered and her hand trembled underneath Emma’s. “I swear, I did not touch her. One moment she was backing away from me, and the next she screamed when she lost balance and fell. It happened in the blink of an eye. I couldn’t get the chance to do anything.”

“It was an accident,” Emma said and dared squeezing Regina’s hand. 

“In one way, yes,” Regina croaked. “Perhaps I hadn’t pushed her, but I could just as well have done that. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I was still responsible for what happened.” 

“You weren-“

“I WAS!” Regina snapped. “She fell because of ME! Because of...” she didn’t finish the sentence. Just yanked her hand away from underneath Emma’s and gestured to the masked side of her face. “If I hadn’t taken off my mask and scared her, she would still be alive today.” 

“She was drunk,” Emma whispered. “You said so yourself. She had been drinking and wanted to confront you. It was an accident, Regina. It was!” 

Regina shook her head. “No. It was my fault. I took another life that day.”

“You didn’t-“

“When I got to her, she was laying still,” Regina interrupted. “And there was.... so much blood everywhere. It was so clear that she was gone. I panicked and did what I’m best at. I ran. This time without bringing anything with me. I just ran away from it all. I just left her there... All alone..” she coughed wetly in a way that didn’t entirely sound like a cough, and when she blinked, something wet landed on her one visible cheek. “I never saw Nadir Khan again. That man had been nothing but kind to me. He had given me a home, and in return, I killed his only child. Took everything from him.” She looked at Emma. “Now you see what I mean when I tell you that I destroy everything I touch!”

“But it was an accident!” Emma said again. “You never meant to-“

“That doesn’t matter! The fact is that it happened and that I was responsible! If I hadn’t snapped and taken off my mask, Daniela wouldn’t have fallen to her dead! If I had never shown up in her father’s basement, she would still be alive today! That I didn’t meant to do it is not relevant. If Nadir Khan hadn’t invited me into his life and home, his daughter would be alive and well today. My arrival started it all.” 

“You cannot be blamed for the way she felt about you!” Emma protested. “We’re not responsible for how other’s-“ 

“A more normal person would have found another way to let her down,” Regina sneered. “One that didn’t involve snapping and causing somebody else’s death! I’m a complete disaster when it comes to other people. Somehow, it always ends in tragedy for them and murder for me.” 

“That is not true,” Emma said stubbornly. “You’re not a disaster. You didn’t push her from that roof. She. FELL.”

“Why are you so hellbent on offering me salvation?” Regina asked and curled her hands into fists. 

“Because I see the good in you!”

“You see the good in me?” Regina laughed now. “There is nothing good in me, Emma! Nothing at all!”

“That is not true! You are-“

“Shh!” 

Emma wouldn’t be silence. “No, Regina, I MEAN it! You are not-“

“Be quiet!”

“But I-“

“Emma, shut UP,” Regina hissed, and her hand suddenly shot out and landed on Emma’s mouth. 

Emma’s first impulse was of course to push Regina’s hand away and say what she needed to say, but after a second of fighting against the hand covering her mouth, she started to actually listen. And what she heard confused her. And made her feel slightly unnerved. 

Footsteps. Slow, sort of heavy footsteps walking down the hallway. More specifically, in the direction of her room. It sounded eerie in the otherwise quiet hallway. The sky had darkened while Regina had told her story. It was getting late, and there wouldn’t typically be someone in the hallway right now. At least not a choir member. But it didn’t sound like a member of the choir. Not really. 

A shiver ran down Emma’s spine when she realized that these footsteps sounded very, very familiar. The exact same ones she had heard that night. Rather than pushing Regina’s hand away, she instead reached up and grabbed her wrist. Very, very happy that she wasn’t alone in her room tonight. 

Regina pulled her hand away and got up from the bed. She quietly walked over to the door and pressed her ear against it. 

“What is it?” Emma whispered as quietly as she could. 

“Shh,” Regina said, not unkindly. She pressed a finger against her lip to indicate that Emma should not speak right now. 

And so Emma went silent and watched as Regina kept her ear pressed tightly against her door. 

The footsteps got louder and louder until they stopped. Right outside Emma’s door. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat. She was certain she could hear someone breathing on the other side of the door.   
That wasn’t just Regina’s breathing. No, there was definitely someone else right outside. 

Regina kept her ear pressed tightly against the door and didn’t utter a word. After a moment, they heard the footsteps retreat down the hallway again. Heavily and quietly. 

Emma got up from the bed and walked over to Regina. This was properly creepy! Who was walking around outside her door at this hour? 

“What was that?” she asked quietly. 

Regina did not answer. She still had her ear pressed against the door, and her forehead was scrunched up in concentration. 

“Regina?” Emma said. “What was that?” 

That prompted Regina to lift her head from the door, turn around and look at Emma. “I’m going with you to the masquerade ball,” she said tightly. 

“You are?” Emma said, surprised and even a bit happy even though she had a feeling that Regina’s reasons for going with her were not the reasons she hoped for. “W-why?” 

“Because it is as I suspected,” Regina said, grabbing the doorknob and pressing it down. The door didn’t budge an inch. “I’m staying here tonight. I’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

“You are?” Emma couldn’t keep up. “But why? What’s going on?” 

Regina didn’t answer. She merely pressed the doorknob down once more. Then pushed her shoulder against the door as though she was trying to see how strong the door really was. 

“Regina!” Emma said and was surprised at how firm her voice sounded. “You have to explain what’s going on!” 

“I don’t want to scare you,” Regina said seriously. “Despite my..... past behavior, that is not the intention.” 

“Scare me how? What IS it? Please, tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Sit,” Regina said plainly. 

Emma went over and sat down on the bed. Then she looked expectantly up at Regina. She HAD to tell her what was going on!

Regina walked over and sat down next to Emma. She completely surprised her by reaching out and patting her hand gently once. “There is something wrong in the opera house, Little Swan,” she said at last. “And there have been for a while.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, now the one being hoarse despite not being the one who was sick. “What is wrong?” 

Regina patted her hand again. “I might be the ghost hiding in the cellar... But there is something else here too. Someone who’s hiding in plain sight. Someone who gets up to no good.”

“And... who is that?” Emma whispered. 

“I don’t know,” Regina replied. “But I’m going to find out. This time they’re not getting away with it. I will not allow it.”

“This time?” Emma echoed. 

But Regina seemingly didn’t hear it. “I’m going to try I swore I’d never do again,” she announced and curled her long fingers into something representing claws. 

“And what’s that?” Emma could hardly breathe. 

Regina turned her head and stared transfixed at the door. “I’m going to be.... The Phantom of the Opera. And I am going to be it in a way that will be positively TERRYFYING.” 

“W-why?” 

“Because...” Regina kept looking at the door. “Whoever was behind that door is going to realize that I am far, far scarier than them. This time...” her knuckles cracked slightly. “They’re not getting past me!”

To Be Continued........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus info: Regina's story about Daniela Khan's fate is inspired by Susan Kay's novel 'Phantom' in which a thirteen year old Erik is discovered by Giovanni, an elderly italian stonemason who takes Erik in and basically adopts him. In the novel, Giovanni's daughter, Luciana is the one who develops feelings for Erik and ultimately falls to her death from the roof. I've taken the liberty to change her name to Daniela and make her Nadir Khan's daughter instead to give Nadir (known as 'the persian' in the original book) a more prominent role.


	33. Angel Of Music, My Protector

Emma shifted in her bed. She couldn’t sleep. Her room was pitch black, and it was long past two in the morning. And yet she couldn’t sleep. It had been like that for several hours. She felt completely awake. It had not much to do with the footsteps she had heard earlier, but everything to do with the woman who currently was curled up on the floor. The fact that Regina was here made everything so very difficult for Emma. True, the Phantom had already spent one night in Emma’s room, but that had been different. She had been sick and asleep then. She wasn’t very marked of her illness anymore. 

And she most definitely was not asleep. Emma could tell by the way she was breathing. Regina’s breathing was much too fast. 

Emma wiggled in the bed again. The springs creaked slightly. The sound was much too loud in the quiet room. But it couldn’t be louder than her thoughts. Her mind was positively overflowing with theories. Regina had not told her much about what was going on. Just that this had happened before, and that she would be spending the night on the floor in Emma’s room. And that she would become ‘the phantom of the opera’. Meaning that she would ‘make some noise’ in the opera. She had been very vague in her answer to why. That it was time to be louder than someone else. Emma didn’t understand much of what was going on, and she wished that Regina would have told her, but something had stopped her from asking questions. Number one reason being that Regina had just been terribly ill and she didn’t want to push her. And number two reason being that she wasn’t completely certain that she wanted to know what was going on. If it was something that could make Regina worried, it had to be something really bad, right? 

Emma rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling without actually seeing anything. Maybe she did want to know what was going on after all. She deserved a straight answer, did she not? Yes. She couldn’t live with this. She HAD to know the reason why Regina had decided to stay one more night. She had to know what those footsteps were about. And she had to know why Regina had said ‘this time’. Whatever was going on now had happened before. But how? Not to whom. Emma was fairly certain she already knew the answer to that question. She pushed a lock of hair away from her face and tried to relax. Closed her eyes and listened to Regina’s breath. It made her feel all awkward, knowing that Regina was right here. Safe to say that going to bed had been quite awkward tonight. She had shyly offered Regina something more comfortable to sleep in, but Regina had rebuffed her, and rightfully so. Emma felt silly afterwards. Regina was so much taller than her. Emma’s clothes would hardly fit her. Regina was sleeping in her black dress. Again. But she had borrowed Emma’s bathroom and taken a shower before going to bed. Well, calling it a bed was definitely to push it to the limit. Emma felt quite awful for having Regina sleeping on the floor. She had tried to offer Regina the bed, but Regina had just scoffed and said something about ‘one night being quite enough’. 

Emma tried rolling onto her side, so she was staring into the wall instead. Maybe that would make it easier to fall asleep. Maybe she could trick her mind into believing that Regina was not here. 

Ha. Who was she kidding. Emma was hyper aware that Regina was here, and when changing into her nightwear in the bathroom, she had wished that she had owned something else than childishly patterned pajamas or innocent white nightgowns. And she had wished that she hadn’t needed to scrub off her makeup before going to bed. But she couldn’t sleep with her makeup on. She would be a huge mess in the morning if she did that. And she assumed that Regina would still be here in the morning. Meaning: Emma didn’t want to look like a mess tomorrow morning.

How did Regina look in the morning, Emma wondered? Did she look as perfect as she did at night? Regina always looked beautiful. Even when she had been sick, she had looked stunning. 

Emma felt something stir in her belly and urged herself to calm down. She was not supposed to think like that. Not now. Not ever. She had to get over that stupid crush! And soon! She couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep blushing and stumbling over her words like she was a dumb schoolgirl. And she couldn’t stop wishing that she was older. That was almost the hardest thing. On a daily basis, Emma desperately wished that she had been older. A few years. Twenty would have been good. Twenty one even better. She often wondered how old Regina actually was. Late twenties or early thirties was pretty broad. It was hard to make a guess when Regina looked the way she did. Ageless. Timeless. Her eyes radiated wisdom and her voice maturity. But her face (or at least the side Emma could see) was quite smooth and free of any wrinkles. And her beauty unearthly. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Regina was in fact a person and not a creature sprung from a myth. She was real. Very real. Looking at the wall did not work as intended. Emma wiggled for the millionth time and rolled onto her back again, staring blindly at the ceiling once more. Regina’s breath was still too quick for her to be asleep. Why wasn’t she asleep? Couldn’t she? She should be. She was still recovering from her illness, and no matter how quickly she seemed to bounce back from it, Emma wanted her to get some rest. She needed it. She hadn’t been fever-free for that long. Truthfully, Emma was puzzled at how quickly Regina had bounced back from her illness. But maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she was simply an expert at hiding how she truly felt. Emma would definitely not put that past her. But what Regina had said about being so cold-blooded... Emma didn’t buy into that nonsense for a second. A cold-blooded person would not have stayed here tonight. A cold-blooded person would not have shown the kind of concern Regina had shown tonight. There was more to Regina than ‘cold-blooded’ and ‘destroying everything she touched’. It was like what Emma had said earlier tonight. Regina was a GOOD person. 

Suddenly, Emma heard a creak. And that creak had her sitting bolt upright in the bed at once. Her heart thrummed in her chest as she looked around in the room, suddenly seeing dangers everywhere. The eerie footsteps were still quite fresh in her mind, and they freaked her out. Very much so. The way they had stopped right outside her room to quietly retreat was ominous. Was the person behind the door back? Would they try to get in this time? What if they started to bang on the door in a moment? Emma was pretty certain she would fall out of bed if that happened. Or maybe she would just die of fright. 

“It’s just the opera house settling in,” came Regina’s raspy voice in the quiet room. “Nothing to worry about, Little Swan.” 

Emma immediately breathed easier. “You’re... not asleep.” 

“No,” Regina said simply. “But you should be. You have rehearsal early tomorrow.” 

Emma ignored that. “Why aren’t you asleep though? It’s late.” 

“Just go to sleep, Little Swan.” 

Emma didn’t. She laid back down and propped herself up on one elbow. “Are you watching the door?” she asked quietly, certain that she had found the reason for Regina being awake. 

“I am making sure that everything is as it should be,” was the cryptic answer. 

But Emma was tired of cryptic answers. “What does that mean?” she asked. “Won’t you please explain to me what’s going ON?” 

There was silent for a while. Then Regina sighed. “Is this really a conversation to have in the middle of the night. Things have changed, and I do not wish to frighten you.” 

“I can handle it,” Emma said even though she wasn’t completely sure she could. “This has happened before?” she continued, her voice low in the darkness. 

“Yes,” Regina confirmed. 

“To...” Emma choked on that one little name. “.... Christine?” 

“Yes.” Regina’s voice was quiet too. “Christine noticed the same kind of footsteps as you.”

“And the person who made the footsteps...” Emma couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too scary. And she was nervous about saying something stupid. Because they were finally talking about Christine Daaé. 

Regina didn’t confirm nor deny that. Instead she said just as quietly: “Know this, Little Swan. I never harmed Christine. Not ever.”

“I know that,” Emma said quickly. She had known for a while.

“But it was my fault,” Regina continued. Her voice was a mere whisper in the quiet, dark room. 

“What? No, Regina-“

“I never hurt her,” Regina interrupted. “But what happened to her.... Was still my fault. If it hadn’t been for me, Christine would still be alive today.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Emma said simply. “I don’t care what you say. I refuse to believe it was your fault.”

“You are too stubborn for your own good, girl.”

Emma was amused at that for a moment, but then she grew serious yet again: “do you know who hurt Christine?”

“No, I do not,” Regina said. “But someone did. And when I find out who it was...” she did not finish the sentence but let it hang in the air instead. 

“Someone who’s now doing the same to me,” Emma concluded, and when Regina said nothing, she continued: “right?”

A long moment of silence. Then: “I think there might be a risk, yes.” 

Emma felt something cold slither down her spine and wrap around to her front. The fear landed in her stomach like a huge ice cube. She so wanted to be brave. Tough. Take this as calmly as she could.   
But she was scared. She couldn’t deny that. Someone was targeting her. Of course she was scared. So scared her heart was pounding in her chest and goosebumps appeared on her skin. She opened her mouth to say something. Something that didn’t reveal how she felt. But her brain-to-mouth filter did not work, and she ended up whispering: “I’m frightened.” So timidly. So weakly. So.... young. 

“No harm will come to you,” Regina said tightly but not unkindly. “I assure you, nobody will get past me. I will find out who it is this time, and I will remove this person from my opera house.”

Emma raised her eyebrow even though Regina couldn’t see it in the darkness. “Your opera house?” 

“I know every nook and cranny of it. It’s my home,” Regina lightly dismissed. 

“When did you first come here?” Emma asked curiously. 

“About a year after what happened to Daniela Khan,” Regina replied. “I drifted around for a while. Got more and more angry at everything and everyone. I became more reckless in both stealing and breaking in. I didn’t care anymore. Three times, the police almost got me. After a while, I realized that I could be channeling my anger towards something else.”

“Channeling it towards what?” Emma asked softly. 

“That’s a story for another day,” Regina said firmly. “Right now, it’s getting late and you have an early rehearsal. Goodnight, little Swan.”

“Will you ever tell me the whole story?” Emma asked instead of going to sleep. “About Christine? How you became friends. What happened to her.” 

Regina sighed quietly. “I’ve already told you, it’s not my story to tell. Not entirely. It’s Christine’s too. She may be gone, but her part in the story is not. And yes, I think perhaps it might be time for you to know the whole story.” 

“Really?” Emma breathed. She had not expected that. And she couldn’t believe that she had been bold enough to actually ask Regina about Christine. Perhaps it was the darkness that made her this bold. 

“We shall see,” Regina said. “Now go to sleep.”

But Emma didn’t want to go to sleep. Not yet. “Why the opera house?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you choose to come to the opera house?” Emma clarified. 

“I wanted somewhere permanent,” Regina replied. “A home of sorts. And music is the one of the few things in my life that has been consistent. Stable. I wanted to be close to the one thing that has always brought me joy no matter where I was.”

“I understand that,” Emma murmured. But for whatever reason, she suddenly got the feeling that that wasn’t the whole story. There was something else there too, but Emma couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Nor did she understand why she got that feeling. She really wanted to ask Regina about it, but she had a feeling that question time was over for tonight. Unfortunately. Would Regina really tell her about Christine? Emma almost couldn’t believe it. She had wondered about the mystery that was Christine Daaé for so long. And now she at last would find out what really happened. At least some of it. Regina did not know who had harmed Christine. But she knew that it was the same person who now apparently had set their sights on Emma. But why? Emma did not understand that. She was not anything special. Except for the slight tiff she’d had with Ruby, she hadn’t fallen out with anyone. She had minded her own business and made a point of being friendly to everyone. Maybe that was what made this so terrifying. That despite being nice to everyone, someone was still coming after her. And the thought that it could be anyone. Student. Teacher. ANYONE. A tingle of fear crept down Emma’s spine. Who was it, walking around outside her room this late? Who was targeting her? And how was she supposed to live with the idea that everyone was a suspect. Malena. Mme. Carlotta. Ruby. Belle. Elsa. Killian. Madame Potts. Anyone. Emma wasn’t sure which aspect was scarier. That it was someone from her choir, someone she trusted and had fun with on a regular basis. Or a teacher. Someone she respected and looked up to. The more she thought about all of this, the scarier it was. 

Emma wiggled in bed. Strained her ears. She couldn’t sleep. She was much too focused on listening to all the tiny little creaking coming from the opera house. Because what if those footsteps suddenly resurfaced? What if next time, she heard the doorknob being jiggled? Or someone banging on her door to get in? 

But then she heard something else. Regina humming softly in her bed. Of course Emma immediately started paying attention to that instead. She had assumed that Regina was asleep, but clearly she was not. 

“That sounds nice,” Emma murmured. 

Regina did not answer. Instead she started to genuinely sing instead of humming: “’ Who knows when love begins, who knows what makes it start, one day it’s simply there, alive within your heart...’”

“Are you trying to sing me to sleep?” Emma half-joked. That was certainly what it felt like right now. Regina’s way of telling her to go to sleep instead laying awake and thinking about scary stuff. 

“It slips into your thoughts, it infiltrates your mind. It takes you by surprise then seizes full control....’”

It was difficult not to shiver. Regina’s voice seemed softer than it had ever been before. As light as a feather and as gentle as a summer breeze.

“’Try to deny it and try to protest, but love won’t let you go once you’ve been.. possessed...’” 

Won’t let you go once you’ve been possessed. Yes. That summarized Emma’s feelings perfectly. Her heart was aching. Physically aching. She could have told Regina ‘I’m in love with you’ right then and there, but she did not. Of course not. Regina was merely trying to make her go to sleep. There wasn’t any hidden meaning in the lyrics. Believing so would be stupid. 

‘Love never dies, love never falters, once it has spoken, love is yours. Love never fades, love never alters. Hearts may get broken, love endures. Hearts may get broken, love..... endures.’”

Regina’s voice was like an anchor in the darkness. Something Emma could almost physically grasp and hold on to. A lifebuoy thrown to her in a stormy sea. Something to soothe her fears. Despite the eerie footsteps, despite not knowing who was targeting her, Emma felt safe right here and now. Wrapped in the blanket that was Regina’s voice. She forgot everything else and eagerly waited for Regina to sing once more, but the Phantom’s voice dwindled. The song stopped and when Regina spoke, her voice sounded very gruff and raspy: “story time is over, Little Swan. Now go to sleep.”

“Storytime?” Emma sleepily slurred. “What story time? You’ve been singing. Not talking.”

“Goodnight, Little Swan.”

All thoughts about protesting was vaporized as Emma surrendered to sleep....

When Emma woke up the next morning, alerted by her ever faithful alarm, Regina was still there. She was already awake and in the middle of brushing out her hair with Emma’s hairbrush. When Emma sat up in bed, Regina put the hairbrush down and turned around. 

“You’re still here,” Emma said and tried not to sound like a total goof.

“Not for much longer,” Regina said, walking towards the mirror. She put a hand on it and pushed it to the side so the secret hole behind it gradually became more and more visible. “But I will come back,” she continued, turning her head, and looking at Emma. “Tonight. And I will be present for your lesson as well. To make sure everything is-“

“Happening as it should,” Emma finished the sentence. 

“Yes,” Regina said, surprising Emma by smiling slightly. “Exactly.”

Emma chuckled slightly. 

Regina gave the mirror another push, and it slid to the side, fully revealing the hole behind it. 

Emma was sad to see her go. She had gotten sort of used to having Regina sleeping in her room. It had been so nice to be able to talk to her uninterrupted and not in secret. But Regina would come back tonight. She would stay in Emma’s room. And she would also be there for the lesson. Emma felt soothed by that. It felt nice, knowing that Regina would keep a watchful eye on her. Because someone was targeting her, but the footsteps didn’t feel half as scary to think about now during the daytime. 

“Now hurry up,” Regina said sternly, bringing Emma out of her funk. “Go ahead and attend your lesson. Do not draw attention to yourself, but do not make an effort to be invisible either. Act as you normally would. Do not make anyone suspicious. If I am to have a chance at catching this person, it is crucial that you act as if you know nothing.” She turned around, walked back towards Emma and then, just for a moment, she reached out and very lightly touched Emma’s cheek with her long fingers.

Emma shivered and leaned into the touch like she had done once before. She felt the urge to put her hand over Regina’s to keep it there, but she wasn’t quite bold enough to do so. 

Regina dusted her fingers down Emma’s cheek and when she reached the corner of Emma’s mouth, Emma could have melted on the spot.

Then Regina’s hand fell away from her cheek. The Phantom looked positively serious. And a tad confused too. Her forehead was wrinkled. Her mouth tight under the mask. 

“What is it?” Emma asked softly. There was that urge to reach out and touch Regina again. And the intense urge to tell her the truth about how she felt.

“Nothing,” Regina said equally quietly. She shook her head slightly. “Nothing at all.”

“Regina-“

“Now I must go. I have important things to attend to. And so have you.” With that she turned around, walked through the mirror, and disappeared from view. 

With Regina gone, Emma stood rooted to the spot, cheek warm after Regina’s touch and a heart that was thudding pleasantly in her chest. The urge to push the mirror open and run through it, after Regina almost got the best of her. It took everything in her to remind herself that she could not do that. She really, really could not. She was supposed to go to her lesson now. And she would see Regina later. Yes. Later.

It took two solid minutes before was capable of doing the things she normally did. Walking into the bathroom. Taking a shower. Brushing out her hair. Braiding it. Putting on a bit of makeup. Putting on her glasses. Getting dressed. Her head was a little fuzzy. She’d had so vivid dreams all night. Most of them had been about Regina. About the two of them together in the lair. Regina was creating music and Emma was singing the songs. That, Emma realized, was exactly what she wanted to do in real life too. Sing Regina’s songs. And better still, bring them into the world. She wanted everyone to know about them. About the talented composer Regina truly was. But that was not something she could do. Because Regina was a secret. A ghost in the opera. An hidden angel of music. Emma’s angel of music. 

And her... protector. This was so far from the woman who had screamed in Emma’s face months ago. Back then, Emma had actually been afraid of her. Now she couldn’t even imagine being scared of Regina. Now Regina had become a safe space for Emma. Someone she trusted. More than she had ever trusted anyone else. Imagine that. When she first arrived here, she had thought that the myth about The Phantom of the Opera was just that. A myth. And a creepy one too. The way Ruby had told her the story had been quite eerie. But just that. A scary story. Though Ruby had believed in it.

And there was something else that Emma remembered. And it made her feel slightly amused. She had promised herself not to get involved in anything. She had sworn that she was here to sing and absolutely nothing else. Yet here she was. Getting involved in all sorts of things concerning phantoms hiding in the catacombs and creepy footsteps outside her door. That was quite a lot to be involved in, and a few months ago, Emma would have been so scared she would immediately have called her parents and begged them to bring her home. 

But that was then. This was now. And Emma couldn’t dream of calling her parents and telling them about that somebody was targeting her. If she did that, her parents would jump on the first flight to Paris and promptly remove her from the opera house. Emma couldn’t risk that. Couldn’t risk being taken away from Regina. And to be honest, she couldn’t imagine returning home to Maine either. Her old life seemed impossibly far away. In more than one way, coming to Paris had opened Emma’s eyes. In many ways, she had done what she promised herself she would. She had concentrated on singing. Just not in the way she had imagined that she would. Before leaving, she had thought about how wonderful her new teachers would be. That had turned out to be absolutely correct too. The only difference being that Emma’s favorite teacher wasn’t an official teacher. She was so much more than that. A mentor, Emma hadn’t even been capable of dreaming about. Regina had taught her more about singing than anyone else ever had. 

And something else that Emma hadn’t anticipated had happened here in the opera. She had fallen in love. There had been moments where she had thought that she wasn’t capable of falling in love. Not really. She mostly just developed harmless crushes that went away eventually. But this was more than just a crush. This was bigger. And Emma was a bit scared that everything would topple over if the truth ever came out. She couldn’t risk Regina finding out how she truly felt about her. Another secret for her to keep. But somehow it felt bigger than the one she was keeping from her parents. 

Emma opened a drawer and found one of her numerous grey cardigans. She slipped it on and then wiggled her feet into her white ballerina shoes. Smoothened her leggings and made sure there weren’t any tears in them. Now she was ready to head downstairs for breakfast. 

When Emma arrived at the canteen and had loaded food onto her tray, it did not take long before Ruby flagged her own and eagerly asked Emma if she wanted to sit with her and Belle. It was obvious that Ruby was eager to renew their friendship, so Emma sat down by their table. It looked like Ruby had sorted things out with Belle as well. She was smiling too and seemed a lot fonder of Ruby than she had yesterday. That was good. Causing havoc between the couple had been the last thing Emma wanted.

She felt guilty while talking to Ruby. It was so obvious that she was feeling guilty about the whole thing, and Emma felt rather terrible for having to lie like this. Maybe Ruby had spoken harshly to her, but she had spoken the truth. She had busted Emma in singing one of Regina’s songs, and now Emma was lying about it until she was blue in the face. She had lied to someone who trusted her and saw her as a friend. And she would only have to keep lying. That was the catch at having Regina in her life. Endless lies to her friends and family. But there was literally no alternative to this situation. If she confided in either Ruby or Lily and told them about Regina, they most certainly would not agree to keep it a secret. No, they would go straight to Malena or Mme. Carlotta or one of the other teachers. Or maybe even to Mr. Gold himself. Regina would be taken away. Taken to prison. The mere thought of that made Emma shiver. That scary scenario made lying so much easier. 

It didn’t take long before Lily joined them. She didn’t sense Ruby’s guilt or the fact that Emma’s thoughts had drifted to a hidden lair, and chitchatted eagerly. Mostly about the masquerade ball. And for the first time, Emma found herself happily engaged in the talk.

“I can’t wait to go!” she said. “It’s gonna be amazing!”

“Definitely,” Lily said slightly surprised. She wasn’t used to Emma expressing that kind of excitement. 

But Emma WAS excited. Because Regina was going with her to the masquerade ball. Perhaps not for the reasons Emma secretly wished for, and perhaps she wouldn’t be by Emma’s side all night, but she would be there. So in a way they would be going together. And now Emma wished that she had gone for one of the more extravagant costumes. Regina saw her in a white dress every day. And those silly wings that came with the costume... Now they seemed entirely too youthful. Childish. Emma didn’t WANT to look childish on the night of the masquerade ball. She wanted to look mature and elegant. Grownup. She wanted to look... different. Wanted Regina to SEE her differently. 

But how was that supposed to happen? Once again, she was putting too much meaning into the masquerade ball. Regina was only going with her because of the person targeting her. Not because she felt any-

“Earth to Emma Swan?” Lily teased. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here,” Emma said quickly. “I was just thinking about the ball.” See, that wasn’t a lie. That was actually entirely true. 

“You suddenly seem very excited about the ball,” Lily observed and tilted her head. “What changed?”

“I dunno,” Emma said vaguely and checked herself. Was she drawing too much attention to herself by displaying newfound interest about the ball? Did this stick out as odd behavior? She hadn’t exactly been overly eager about the masquerade party yesterday, but a girl could change her mind, right? 

“I guess I’m just starting to realize what a big deal it actually is,” she settled with. 

“It is,” Ruby agreed. “I’m so glad they’re bringing this tradition back. And I can’t think of a better way to honor Christine than throwing a masquerade ball in her name. She would have loved it.” 

“I’m sure she would,” Emma said softly. 

Belle gently put a hand on Ruby’s arm and then brought them out of the somber moment by asking: “do you know who you’re going with, Emma?” 

“No,” Emma said. Not true. She very much did know who she was going with. But that was not something she could tell the other’s. “I’m actually considering to just... go alone.”

“Alone?!” Lily exclaimed so loudly Emma jumped a little. “You can’t go alone, Emma! That’s not right!” 

“It’s how I prefer it,” Emma said and made sure to sound as casual as possible. But she was measuring Lily from head to toe discreetly. She knew that Lily had a thing for her, but the question was, how big of a thing? Was it big enough for her to have gotten obsessed? Could she be the one who had been in the hallway late last night? If one squinted, Lily COULD potentially have a motive, but it just seemed to unlikely. She was Malena’s daughter and she seemed so nice.

But everyone was a suspect. Emma glanced at Ruby and Belle. Could it have been one of them? No. For what purpose? She scanned the rest of the canteen. Spotted Killian Jones who often entertained with stories about ‘the ghost’. Could the stories have gotten to his head? Had he decided to become the next ‘phantom’ in the opera to pull a prank on all of them? Killian WAS fascinated with the tale of the ‘ghost in the opera’, and he always seemed genuinely annoyed every time Malena shut him down. So Killian had a motive. Sort of, anyway. But why choosing her specifically? Emma barely knew him. It didn’t make sense. 

Then there was Anna and a bunch of other first years, but Emma quickly ruled them out. They all seemed as shy and timid as she. It seemed highly unlikely that one of them was the culprit. She had a feeling that the guilty one should be found amongst the older students. Or the teachers. That was what scared Emma the most. That it could be an adult doing this. Someone with authority. She tried to entertain the possibility that it could be Malena, but her brain just sort of shut down before she could even get to that point. No. It couldn’t be Malena. Emma didn’t WANT it to be Malena. Anyone but her. Malena had no motive. No reason to having chosen Emma as her target. Nor Mme. Carlotta. The other teachers in charge of the choir-lessons, Ubaldo Piangi and Firmin and André seemed just as unlikely.   
Emma felt tempted to rule them out immediately, but knew that she couldn’t do that. They had access to the choirs-dormitory, and it had to be someone who had that kind of access. 

Her thoughts wandered to Joseph Bouquet, and she immediately felt a shiver run down her spine. Joseph Bouquet. He did not have a motive (none of them truly did), but there was something about him that seemed... off. The way he smirked rather than smiled when you passed him in the hallways. His ability to be everywhere and nowhere. His drinking problem which he had been warned about many a time. And as the janitor, he did indeed have access to every part of the opera house. 

Emma pushed her bowl of oatmeal away and pushed the glasses up her nose. She could be certain, of course, but right now, Joseph Bouquet was her suspect number one. Lily had said many times that he was ‘creepy’. And what if he was? What if he had other reasons for wanting to be the janitor at the opera house? Reasons like... young choir girls. 

Emma felt slightly sick now. She was no Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple or even Stevie Bell. She couldn’t be certain that this was how things were. But if it was... If she was right... Then Joseph Bouquet was a dangerous man. 

“Emma?” 

Emma could have pushed her bowl of oatmeal onto the floor in shock when Lily gave her a nudge. She made a comical little jerking movement with her arm, and Lily chuckled. “The rehearsal starts in five minutes. You coming?” 

“Yes,” Emma said, congratulating herself with having NOT pushed the bowl of oatmeal onto the floor. “I’m ready.” She rose from her chair.

“That all you’re eating?” Lily asked, nodding towards the bowl of oatmeal. 

“I’m not really hungry.” That wasn’t a lie either. “I’ll build up an appetite for lunch. Come on, if we’re late, Malena will kill us!”

“With her bare hands, I’m sure,” Ruby joked as all four of them hurried out of the canteen and up the stairs. 

Of course they just so happened to pass Joseph Bouquet on the way, and when he smiled and said good morning to them, Emma couldn’t bring herself to return the greeting. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but she was certain there was something else in his smile. Something only she could see. Her belly twinged uncomfortably as Bouquet passed them and whistled merrily as he went....

The rehearsal went fine. Everyone sang like they were supposed to, and Emma did not zone out a single time. For once, she was focused and remembered what Regina had told her. To not draw attention to herself. Pretend that everything was just fine. And it was important to look professional today when Mr. Gold was present in the auditorium. He would be there for a lot of their rehearsals now that the concert was approaching. He was the one in charge of everything. It was because of him that Malena was allowed to recruit new choir members every year, so it was crucial that everyone was making an effort whenever he was present. 

And everyone did. Emma thought to herself that her voice sounded extremely clear today. Regina would be proud of her. 

Regina. Emma couldn’t see her, but that didn’t matter. Regina had told her that she would be there, and Emma trusted that. In fact she could instinctively sense that Regina was here. Perhaps hiding in Box Five. Or maybe somewhere else. Emma felt very soothed by that. 

It did take everything in her to only concentrate on singing when her thoughts kept wandering to Joseph Bouquet. Was he truly the person behind this? Had he done this to Christine Daaé as well? Or could be someone else? Someone from outside? The opera house was an enormous place with lots of nooks and cranny’s. And if Regina could hide in the cellar and only be found because Christine Daaé and now Emma had been curious enough to go exploring.... Then somebody else could hide here too. It wasn’t impossible, was it? 

No. Emma stopped herself from shaking her head. Actually, that WAS impossible. One of the few things that was impossible. The person who was targeting her had been targeting Christine too. Meaning that whoever it was should have hidden in the opera house for three years. Regina knew this place like the back of her hand. If there was somebody else from outside hiding in the opera house, she would have known. A hundred percent. 

And once again, Emma was back to suspecting Joseph Bouquet. She couldn’t think of a more obvious candidate than him. And she had every intention of telling Regina of her suspicion. She would know what to do. 

“Excellent,” Malena said, turning her head and looking to Mr. Gold as though she was searching approval. 

Mr. Gold nodded and smiled. “You are creating magic, Mrs. Drake.” He was probably the only one in the entire school who called Malena ‘Mrs. Drake’. She detested it. But Mr. Gold could get away with it. 

“Everything seems to be working better this year,” Malena said and bowed her head at the praise. Emma could see a muscle work in her jaw, though, so maybe Malena was biting back her annoyance at being called ‘Mrs. Drake’.

“I fear that the choir might even steal the attention from the leading lady,” Mr. Gold quipped and chuckled. 

“They better not!” Ruby jokingly growled. 

Everyone, including Emma, laughed at that.

“Miss Lucas,” Malena said overbearingly. “You’re here to sing. Not make silly jokes.”

“Right. Sorry, Malena.”

Everyone laughed again, and Malena flashed Ruby the famous look suggesting that she mostly wanted to banish her from the opera house. Sometimes Malena could be quite dramatic.

“Let’s take it from the top,” she said, calling everyone to attention. 

Mr. Gold stood from his preferred seat in the front row. “I’m afraid I must be on my way, Mrs. Drake. There are many things to take care of now that the concert is approaching. And I can see that there’s no reason for me to be here at all. It truly sounded wonderful.” He smiled at the choir. “This year’s concert will undoubtedly be the very best.” 

“It was a pleasure having you here, Mr. Gold. Everyone is always so well behaved when you’re present,” Malena said darkly, causing everyone to laugh again. 

Mr. Gold allowed himself to chuckle once. Then he limped his way over to the door with one hand on his cane.

Emma prepared to take everything from the top along with the rest of the choir, but the creaking coming from the door as Mr. Gold with some trouble pushed it open caught her attention. The next second, she had nearly swallowed her tongue when none other than Joseph Bouquet came into the auditorium with some kind of tool box wedged under his arm. 

Something ice cold slithered down Emma’s spine. Why did he have to be here?!

“Bouquet,” Malena acknowledged. “At last. It’s the projector in the room behind the stage.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bouquet mumbled and nodded at Mr. Gold. “Mr. Gold.”

“Bouquet,” Mr. Gold growled. “Haven’t you been asked to take care of that projector for at least fourteen days now?”

“It’s a big place, Mr. Gold,” Bouquet said and shifted a bit. He was easily towering over Mr. Gold, but Mr. Gold seemed all the more intimidating that him, nonetheless. “There are many things that needs-“

“Bouquet,” Mr. Gold interrupted and seemed to be gripping his cane a little tighter. “When Mrs. Drake asks you to take care of something, you do it immediately. This is my opera house, and I expect everything to be in perfect condition before the concert. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Bouquet said sullenly. 

Gold flashed him a look that Emma wasn’t in doubt meant ‘this is your last chance’, and then he disappeared through the door.

“One more time,” Malena said sharply to get everyone’s attention away from the little altercation between the two men. “Ruby, if you please.”

“’O mio bambino caro,’” Ruby sang with her rich but crystal clear voice. “’ Mi piace, è bello, bello….’”

While she sang, Emma vocalized with the rest of the choir, but she couldn’t help but keeping an eye on Joseph Bouquet as he disappeared into the room behind them to fix the broken projector. Perhaps he had been late to get around to actually fix it, but he was working very silently. If you hadn’t seen him walk in, you wouldn’t know that he was there.

And that was one of the reasons Emma now felt creeped out. Of all days, he had to be in the auditorium today where she was suspecting him the most. And this obviously did nothing to lessen her suspicion. She felt very uneasy singing when she knew that Joseph Bouquet was in the room right behind them, and more than once she had to fight the urge to look back over her shoulder to check if he was looking at her. He had left the door to the room ajar, so it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to poke his head out of the door and look at her while she sang. She doubted that Malena would notice. Her attention was always solely on the rehearsal. Including right now where she was using her hands to direct their singing. 

Emma did not feel like singing any longer. She felt anxious. Most of all, she wanted to bolt. She had always enjoyed being in the auditorium, but not any longer. Joseph Bouquet felt like a very big thread. She kept straining her ears to listen while he moved about in there. Did his footsteps match the ones she had heard last night? She couldn’t quite figure out. She supposed they could be a little similar to the ones she’d heard last night, but she wasn’t sure. She was supposed to suspect everyone and not just one man. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t eliminating any possible suspects because she was so certain that Joseph Bouquet was the culprit. 

Just then, Emma remembered her orders and eagerly vocalized with the rest of the choir. No day-dreaming. No zoning out. No reasons to make Malena or any of the others suspicious of her. It was essential that she did her part in pretending that she knew nothing. She would just have to ignore the prickling sensation at the back of her neck she always got when she felt like someone was watching her. She reminded herself that she was in a safe place. With the entire choir. And Malena. Joseph Bouquet was of no threat to her when she was surrounded by people. Nor would he be a threat to her at night. Because Regina would be with her then. And Emma trusted her protection more than she trusted the entire choir...

“Good job, everyone!” Malena praised and clapped her hands together. “I think its time for a pause. Ruby, make some tea for yourself.”

“Yes, Malena,” Ruby chuckled and pretended to rub her throat. “Ouch!”

“Don’t even say it,” Malena warned as Belle started laughing and nudged her girlfriend. 

“You’re such an idiot,” Belle murmured. 

“Rude!” Ruby laughed and nudged back. 

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She had been feeling so guilty for having caused tension between Ruby and Belle. But now the two of them were back to being how they always were around each other, and   
Emma was very happy to see that. She couldn’t bear the idea of her lie being the reason for Ruby and Belle falling out.

“Gather your things, please,” Malena said. “Ten minute break and then you’ll attend to your homework.”

Emma gnashed her teeth. Math. She really hated that. Couldn’t even see why she needed it. Doing math in a place like the Paris opera seemed like the most pointless thing ever, but she knew there was no way around it. And it wouldn’t take her that long. She just had to suck it up and get through it so she could sing again.

Lily knew her feelings. She turned to Emma and asked: “study together?”

“Sounds good,” Emma nodded. She trusted Lily. In fact she remembered that Lily was eliminated from suspicion. Because Lily had been in her room on the night where Emma first heard the footsteps. She had poked her head out of her room and asked if everything was okay. She wasn’t the one who had been skulking around in the hallways. She wasn’t capable of being two places at one. 

It felt like something detached from Emma’s chest. Lily was not the one doing this. Thank god. She hadn’t really believed it in the first place, but getting confirmation was good. She wasn’t sure she could have handled if Lily had been the one behind the eerie footsteps. 

“Awesome,” Lily smiled. “Less studying more singing, eh?”

“You’re reading my mind like an open book,” Emma joked. “Definitely more singing.” Hopefully without Joseph Bouquet lurking the next time. He was still here. He had just emerged from the room behind the stage and was now wiping his forehead as though he had just performed very hard work. 

Emma discreetly stepped in behind Lily to make herself seem less noticeable in case Bouquet was looking for her. 

“Alright, everyone, out you pop so you can start your homework,” Malena ordered. “Remember, the clock is ticking, and...”

“Music isn’t waiting for anyone,” the choir finished the sentence.

“Quite so,” Malena chuckled. “So, go on, get out of here and get started on your-“

Creak.

Malena stopped talking, and the choir stopped moving. Everyone looked confused at one another and then glanced upwards where the sound had come from. 

Creak.

“What on earth...” Malena muttered. 

Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak-creak-creak!

“What the hell is that?” Joseph Bouquet said gruffly as he too looked up at the bridge where nobody was supposed to be right now. 

Creak. Creak. Creak. 

“Hello, who’s up there?” Malena called annoyed. “The auditorium will be locked in two minutes, so I suggest you get down here at once!”

Creak. Creak.

“I said, get down here at once!” Malena barked. “No one except Mr. Bouquet is allowed up there!”

But her stern order was met with no reply. Just creaking. Definitely footsteps. But this time, Emma was not the slightest bit afraid of the sound. Because she recognized these footsteps.

Muttering erupted in the choir, and a few looked up towards the bridge. So did Joseph Bouquet. He was frowning in confusion.

So was Killian Jones. He too was looking up towards the bridge. And stretching his neck too. As though he was trying to catch a glimpse of someone. Or someone.

Emma didn’t. Of course she feigned confusion and looked at Lily for answers, but she made no attempt at looking up towards the bridge. She already knew there wouldn’t be anyone up there. Of course not. 

“Hello?” Malena called again. She sounded... less sure this time. Not afraid or intimidated. Just slightly unsure of the situation. 

Again, there was no answer. The creaking stopped as abruptly as it had started. 

Now everyone was looking confused at one another.

“What the hell was that?” Ruby asked plainly, voice sharp and eyes darting towards the bridge where the creaking had come from.

“A creak from an old building, miss Lucas,” Malena said dismissively. “Nothing to worry about.”

“’Creaking from an old building’?’” Ruby echoed and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t really sound like it if you ask ME.”

“But I didn’t, miss Lucas,” Malena said tightly. “I was in no way asking for your opinion.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, that didn’t exactly sound like-“ Joseph Bouquet started, but Malena silenced him with a single glare and a firm: “it was the building settling, Mr. Bouquet. That was all.” 

Emma knew differently. She didn’t say so. But she knew with a hundred percent certainty that Regina had just unleashed the first part of her plan about being ‘The Phantom of the Opera’.....

To Be Continued.........


	34. Notes

Regina kept her word and came back that night. She slept on the floor again.

Emma had of course told Regina about the suspicion she harbored against Joseph Bouquet, and Regina’s dark eyes had gleamed dangerously. For a moment, she had looked almost murderous, but then she had collected herself and said that they had to wait until they had an actual proof against him. And she had praised Emma for sharing the suspicion with her. 

However stupid it sounded, Emma’s heart had swelled at the praise. 

She’d had difficulties sleeping that night as well, and she and Regina had actually ended up talking for a while. Regina had given Emma the peculiar task of describing her house back in Storybrooke, and so Emma had done that. She had described their large kitchen kept in light colors. Their cozy living room with the velvet couch and armchair. The sun room upstairs where one wall was made entirely of glass. That was Emma’s favorite room. She spent more time there than she did in her own room, and it was also there she kept all of her books. A library/sunroom. When she talked about it, Emma missed it. But she hoped it was possible to create a sunroom somewhere else. 

Regina had listened quietly without interrupting, and when Emma was done describing her house, she had carefully asked Regina if she ever wanted to live in a place like that. Regina’s answer had been short. A simple ‘yes’. Emma’s heart had broken a little. Regina wanted a home. A proper home. Not a lair. And Regina’s elaborating answer (‘it would be nice to see the sun now and then’), had broken her heart further. 

“You could leave,” Emma had gently murmured. “You are an adult now. No one would ever realize that you and the boy breaking in to find food and sleep is one and the same.” 

“I am not going anywhere until my job is done,” Regina had gruffly answered. 

“What job?” Emma had quietly asked. 

“Protecting you,” had been Regina’s answer, and then she had fallen silent. 

So had Emma. But she had been awake for a while, wondering about the implication in Regina’s words. What would happen if and when they revealed Joseph Bouquet as the culprit? Would Regina... leave?   
And where would she go? And... was there the slightest possibility that Emma could come with her? A ridiculous thought, of course, but Emma couldn’t imagine being in the opera house without Regina. Regina made this all worth it. And being here without her would be so.... pointless. Malena could not teach Emma anything that Regina hadn’t taught her already. 

Emma shivered at the thought of loosing her favorite teacher, and she hoped that Regina hadn’t meant that she would leave the opera house when they had seized Joseph Bouquet. 

Nothing happened that night. No footsteps. No one skulking around in the hallways late at night. When Emma woke up, Regina was still there, and to Emma’s surprise, Regina’s hair had been wet. She had clearly been showering while Emma slept. When Emma commented on it, Regina had just shrugged and asked if Emma minded it. 

Of course the answer to that had been no. Emma absolutely did not mind that Regina borrowed her shower. She actually loved that Regina felt at home enough to do that. And seeing Regina with wet, slicked back hair had done certain things to Emma. As had the dress Regina had been wearing. A deep purple lace dress with bat sleeves. After a brief conversation in which Regina reminded Emma to keep acting like she didn’t know anything, the Phantom had disappeared through the mirror. 

Emma had no idea how Regina managed to get to the auditorium so fast, but she had a suspicion that there were more ways to get out of the lair than through the passage. There had to be other ways than through the mirror here and downstairs and in the crypt. She had actually asked Regina about it once, but instead of either confirming or denying it, Regina had squinted and told Emma that she couldn’t possibly tell her all the secrets the Phantom of the Opera had. She wouldn’t be a very good ghost if she did that. 

But either way, Regina had been present for the rehearsal. Well, not present-present, but she had most certainly been there. She had let everyone know by the end of the rehearsal where she once again had creaked about on the bridge. This time louder than the previous time, and all talk had stopped immediately. Ruby and Belle had exchanged glances with one another. Anna had been visible frightened, and so had a couple of the other member of the choir. Tink, the blonde girl who did so fit her name had stared wide eyed towards the bridge. Killian had been squawking about them not being alone. Lily had looked to her mother. 

And Malena had tried to calm everyone in the choir, but as steady and dismissive as her voice has been, as equally confused her look had been as she too glanced towards the bridge where the creaking had come from. 

Joseph Bouquet, who had still been working on the projector had emerged from the room behind the stage and had offered to take a look at what was going on on the bridge, and Emma’s heart had nearly stopped. Suppose he would get a glimpse of Regina up there?

But luckily enough, Malena had rejected that offer. She had clearly not been interesting in creating a ‘situation’, and had dismissed the whole thing as a rat rummaging around somewhere on the bridge. She would make sure that a trap would be put up there so they could get rid of the rat. 

Ruby had not looked entirely convinced at Malena’s way of handling things. 

When Emma had met up with Regina later that night, Regina had been highly amused that Malena had claimed the creaking sound to be a rat. 

Emma supposed that was a little funny, but she did find it to be rather morbid, the way Regina was openly amused and entertained at the idea of scaring everyone. Emma knew that the creaking was all about scaring the culprit/Joseph Bouquet, but still, she had not expected Regina to enjoy it so much.

But Regina had merely scoffed, and they had rehearsed for the rest of the evening. A mixture of the songs Emma had to sing in the choir, and some of the songs Regina had composed. Including a new one Emma had not heard before. ‘The Beauty Underneath’, it was called. She had no idea when Regina had had the time to compose a new song in the middle of monitoring rehearsals and sleeping over, but Regina just scoffed and said that she had a lot of time on her hands when Emma slept at night. The implication was clear, Regina did not sleep much at night, and of course Emma had immediately been concerned, but Regina had chuckled and told Emma to ‘be quiet and concentrate on the things that matters’. The command could have been very, very crass if it hadn’t been for Regina’s tone and the way she smiled when she said it. Emma liked joking-Regina a lot. And she liked ‘Beauty Underneath’ too. It was slightly more upbeat than the other songs Regina normally composed. But still with stunning lyrics. Emma had no idea how Regina managed to do it. Compose a brilliant song every single time. When she asked about it, Regina shrugged and jokingly said that the talent ‘probably made up for the things I lack’. 

Emma had of course blushed like an idiot when she mumbled that she didn’t think that Regina was lacking anything anywhere. 

Regina had been silent for so long, Emma feared that she crossed some kind of line and would be kicked out of the lair. But then Regina had thrown her head back and laughed louder than Emma ever had heard her laugh. Only then, Emma realized that what she had just said could be perceived in more ways than one, and of course she blushed again as she stuttered her way through an apology. 

Regina had dismissed her apology and called her ‘a little fool’. 

And that had warmed Emma more than any compliment possibly could have. Regina had sounded almost kind when saying it, and that had made the whole difference for Emma. 

Then they had gone back to rehearsing, and Regina had looked quite pleased by the end of it. She had nodded, said ‘good’. And then she had offered Emma the second chocolate cookie Emma had brought for her. She had never done that before, but Emma knew better than to comment on it.

Then they had talked. Or rather, Regina had encouraged Emma to talk. About her childhood, more specifically, and so Emma had done that...

Emma had had a fairly busy day today. Lots of homework and lots of rehearsing, of course. Regina had been there of course, she had just made less noise. But Emma was certain she had been there. Her gut feeling had told her that Regina most definitely was ‘present’ for the rehearsal too. Tomorrow, the trap would be set up so the ‘rat’ could be trapped. 

Ruby had been sort of subdued during dinner in the canteen. Had poked the food around on her plate rather than eating it. She claimed that she was fine when asked, but Emma knew that she was thinking about the noises coming from above whenever they rehearsed. She didn’t believe that it was a rat. She believed it to be something else. She was one of the students who believed in the Phantom of the Opera. Because she had known Christine Daaé.

Emma felt guilty, but kept her mouth shut. She had to. Pretending was essential if they wanted just the slightest possibility to catch Joseph Bouquet in the act. 

Emma elegantly pulled the hair tie out of her hair and shook her head slightly, sending golden ringlets spilling down her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, enjoying being free of the tight braid she had had her hair in all day.

Thinking about it, it actually was pretty ridiculous that she took her hair down every night. Regina saw her with the tight, conservative braid every morning and afternoon when they rehearsed. And she also knew that Emma wasn’t wearing red lipstick for rehearsals or studying or eating in the canteen. The only times Regina left her, was when Emma was studying with her friends or having breakfast or lunch in the canteen. Her all-seeing eye didn’t reach that far.

Emma fluffed up her hair one last time and checked her lipstick to make sure that it hadn’t accidentally smudged. It hadn’t good. It was bad enough that Regina now knew that Emma was making an extra effort when coming to the lair. She didn’t have to see Emma with smudged lipstick too. Emma didn’t need to feel more like a child than she already did in Regina’s company. 

She pushed that unwelcome thought aside and grabbed her backpack. Weighted it in her hand. Not too heavy. She was bringing bagels for Regina tonight. Bagels and an apple and two chocolate cookies. She did not care what Regina said about making her teeth go bad. She could see that Regina enjoyed the cookies, so Emma would continue to bring her cookies. She shrugged off her cardigan, brushed a hand over her white chorus dress to make sure that she hadn’t gotten any stains on it, and then strapped the backpack onto her shoulders. Still not too heavy, but she had to be careful when walking so she didn’t accidentally squash the bagels. Regina probably would now appreciate squashed bagels.

Now she was ready to go, and her little white ballerina slippers made the softest little creaks against the floor as she walked over to the mirror. She put her hand on the mirror, ready to push it open, but before she could, it was open from the inside, and Emma nearly stumbled, exclaiming a soft little ‘oh!’. 

“Boo,” Regina said sarcastically. Because of course it was her behind the mirror. And she looked absolutely breathtaking in her black velvet dress with V-neck and open black feather cloak. A fedora hat was sitting tilting slightly on her head, and to full fill this image of perfection, she was wearing a pair of black, elbow length gloves. 

“Hello,” Emma said a bit breathless. Regina looked... Well, she looked... stunning. 

“Good evening, Little Swan,” Regina said smoothly. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes!” Emma said immediately and did nothing to hide her excitement. 

A smile briefly appeared on Regina’s lips and then she outstretched a glove clad hand towards Emma. 

Emma did nothing to hide her smile either as she willingly let her fingers intertwine with Regina’s glove clad ones. 

Regina tightened her grip around Emma’s fingers, and then she gently pulled her through the mirror. Her long feather cloak almost wrapped around Emma’s left shoulder as she pushed the mirror back where it belonged. The cloak slipped from Emma’s shoulder when Regina turned, but she did not let go of Emma’s hand as they walked through the passage. 

And Emma was not about to wiggle her finger loose or anything. Any excuse to be close to Regina. She noticed that Regina was carrying a lantern in her left hand and holding it high to illuminate the dark passage. Somehow, the passageway seemed more gloomy tonight, and Emma wasn’t sure she would have liked walking through it alone. But luckily enough, she didn’t have to walk through this dark labyrinth alone. Ever since hearing the footsteps, Regina had appeared behind the mirror every night to escort Emma to the lair. She also walked back with her whenever Emma left so Emma didn’t have to be alone in her room. Regina was not taking any chances, and even though Emma of course was scared of the threat, she was also extremely grateful that Regina was taking this so seriously. She was still holding Emma’s hand, and Emma felt one of those metaphorical butterflies flutter about somewhere behind her navel. She didn’t dare moving her hand just an inch out of fear that Regina would let go of her hand. That couldn’t happen. She didn’t dare speaking either. She was afraid that that would cause Regina to let go of her hand too. Regina had never held her hand for this long. She always let go right after having pulled Emma through the mirror, but Emma was definitely not about to ask questions. She was merely going to enjoy holding Regina’s hand for as long as she possibly could. Her belly kept tingling in that particular way it always did whenever Regina came close to her. Emma always felt ridiculous when Regina was close to her, but right now she could get away with feeling ridiculous. Because Regina wasn’t looking at her...

But there was however a surprise waiting for Emma when they reached the part where the tunnel widened. The boat which normally resided in the little room in the lair, was now standing there. Almost like it was waiting for them. 

“Oh,” Emma said and tilted her head. “What is the boat doing here?” 

“Bit of a situation going on. Let’s call it water in the cellar. Get in.” Regina said shortly.

“Water in the cellar?” Emma echoed as she let Regina guide her over to the boat.

“Yes. It happens once in a while. In you go,” Regina said just as shortly as she helped Emma into the boat. She fastened the lantern to the front of the boat. 

“I see,” Emma nodded, shifted slightly as she made herself comfortable in the bow of the boat. Now that she was sitting and looking at the passage that had been illuminated by the lantern, she could see   
that the floor was in fact swimming in water that would undoubtedly reach Emma’s thigh. That had to be an annoying problem to deal with, Emma thought to herself. 

The boat tilted slightly to the left as Regina climbed inside. She did not sit down like Emma. Instead she kept standing in the back of the boat as she grabbed a single oar and began rowing. The boat effortlessly glided through the water, and Emma thought to herself that this was not something she had ever imagined to experience. Being rowed in a boat through a flooded passage deep below the opera house was definitely something she would remember for always. 

“Well. If this isn’t some kind of deja-vu, I don’t know what is,” Regina mumbled above her. 

“Why is this a deja-vu?” Emma immediately asked curiously and turned her head so she could look at Regina. 

But Regina’s face was not illuminated but hidden in shadows and under the black fedora she was wearing tonight. “Sit still. You’re going to tilt the boat.” 

“Why is this a deja-vu?” Emma asked again. Ignoring Regina’s attempt at steering the conversation elsewhere. She was curious and wanted to know.

“I used to sail Christine in this boat,” Regina said simply. 

“Oh. I get it,” Emma nodded.

Regina said nothing else but simply started humming. It didn’t take long before Emma realized that she was humming ‘The Phantom of the Opera’. And of course Emma couldn’t resist to join in. ‘I am the mask you wear,’” she sang, quickly pinpointing exactly which part of the song Regina was humming. 

‘”It’s me they hear,’” Regina sang back, and Emma could tell that she was pleased. 

“Your spirit and my voice,’” Emma picked it up, feeling nothing but satisfied at the way their voices blended together as Regina sang ‘My spirit, and your voice.’

‘In one combines, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my/your mind...’”

‘In all your fantasies, you always knew,’” Regina sang in that particular way that made the hairs on Emma’s arm stand up. ‘That woman and mystery...’

‘Were both in you....’

‘And in this labyrinth, where night is blind....’

‘The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!’

The boat had reached the lair, which appeared to be a bit watery than usually too, but Regina steered the boat with a steady hand, and soon they reached the dry stone floor. She elegantly climbed out of the boat and extended her hands out to Emma. 

Emma eagerly grabbed Regina’s hands and let the Phantom help her out of the boat. 

Regina brushed one glove clad finger over Emma’s cheek once and prompted: “sing, my Angel of Music.”

Emma had not expected that she would be singing quite so fast, let alone sustaining, but her voice was nicely warmed up, and she was ready to do just about anything to please Regina. So she smiled a little before starting: ‘she’s there, the Phantom of the Opera...’

“Sing,” Regina ordered, brushing her finger over Emma’s cheek again before turning around. 

Emma started singing. Her voice didn’t have the breathiness it had when she first started her lessons with Regina, but there was still a hint of fragility to it. She didn’t mind that. She let her voice climb one octave higher and felt her chest arch forward like the music was fighting to get out. Emma was more than happy to let it out. Thanks to everything Regina had taught her, she no longer had any problems with unlocking the music inside her. 

“Sing!” Regina said again. But as opposed to the first time she had asked Emma to do this, her voice was far gentler. She was no longer snapping at Emma. 

Willing to obey, Emma started to walk towards Regina. Of course without stopping to sing. 

“That’s it,” Regina praised and sounded almost kind now. “Sing!”

Emma took her voice up one octave. She was no longer struggling to reach the notes, but that tingling sensation running down her spine and wrapping around to her abdomen still happened whenever she sang like this. She felt the music. In every inch of her body. From her fingertips tingling with it, and to her feet barely keeping her on the ground. Or so it felt.

Regina turned around, elegantly loosening her cloak and flinging it into the boat. The black fedora hat followed suit a second later. She didn’t say anything, simply outstretched a hand towards Emma. 

Emma took the hint and crossed the raw stone floor. As if pulled by a string, she walked towards Regina. Her beacon of her light. Her tutor. Her guide and guardian. Her voice climbed higher and higher with each step she took, and the tingling sensation in her abdomen was almost driving her crazy. The music was in her veins, rolling quicker and quicker with each note she sang. She felt about ten inches taller and more confident than ever. Now she was standing in front of Regina, and looking at her face was just about the only thing that could make Emma’s voice tremble. Regina’s eyes almost looked completely black, but the hand grabbing Emma’s was kind. And soft. Regina must have taken off her gloves while she was standing with her back to Emma. “Sing, my Angel of Music!” she said as she squeezed Emma’s hand slightly. 

Emma found herself squeezing back as her voice climbed the last step on that ladder. She could not look at Regina. Had to close her eyes. The Phantom was standing far too close to her. Normally, Regina would have spun her around to face the lair by now, but she hadn’t done it today. She was just standing there. and still holding on to Emma’s hand. Not even squeezing it anymore. Just holding it in her own.

“Sing, my Angel, sing.” She was not commanding or hissing like she sometimes did. Her voice was soft. Gentle. The slightest murmur. 

And Emma sang. How could she do anything else when Regina was asking her to in such a soft, gentle manner? The music filled her mind, soul, and body as she threw her head back and let the last, high note explode out of her mouth and soar towards the high ceiling. She was trembling from top to toe, and as always, her lungs stung, and her throat was aching. Just a little bit. 

Emma brought a hand up to rub slightly at her throat as she struggled to catch her breath. No matter how many times she did this, she would always feel the same way afterwards. Out of breath. For more reasons than one, perhaps. Her abdomen was tingling pleasantly, and the feeling was making heat rise in Emma’s cheeks and colored them pink. She felt halfway embarrassed, and wholly proud of herself because she had mastered that high note once again. And fairly effortlessly, too. She still remembered how she had struggled the first time she had done this. How Regina had pushed and pressed and threatened with the fires of hell if she did not succeed. As dramatic as it had sounded, it had worked. Emma was certain she never would have succeeded if Regina hadn’t pushed her abilities to the limit. 

She owed Regina everything.

Regina. Emma suddenly noticed that the Phantom was no longer holding her hand. Nor standing next to her. She turned around and found Regina sitting on the floor. She had her head tipped back against the wall, and her eyes were closed.

Emma immediately rushed over there, worried because Regina had not done this before. She usually just raised an eyebrow or said something along the lines of ‘good’ or something like that. Was she sick?   
Had she gone dizzy or something? Why was she sitting on the floor like that? 

“Regina?” Emma asked almost timidly. 

Regina did not answer her. 

“Regina?” Emma said again, gathering her skirt with one hand and kneeling next to Regina. “Is everything alright? Are you.. are you sick?” she reached back and scrabbled for he backpack where she knew she still had a bottle of water. If Regina felt faint, she could offer the bottle to her. 

Regina still did not answer her, but after a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at Emma. A little smile danced on her lips. 

“Are you sick?” Emma asked again, still worried but a bit more relieved now that Regina had opened her eyes. 

“Silly girl,” Regina said as an answer and lifted her hand. 

Instinctively, Emma did the same, and the breath nearly caught in her throat all over again when Regina rested her long fingers against her shorter ones for a moment before sliding them in between Emma’s and curling them. 

When their fingers intertwined, Emma felt a new wave of heat rise in her cheeks. Her heart thudded pleasantly in her chest, and she got the urge to look down. Look away. Anywhere but at Regina. 

“You did well,” Regina said and gave Emma’s hand another squeeze. “I am pleased.”

Oh. Emma’s chest filled with warmth. Regina was pleased with her. That was everything. “Are you.. are you hungry?” she ended up asking instead of saying ‘thank you’. She silently cursed herself. She was being rude. 

But Regina only chuckled richly once as she released Emma’s hand. “Yes. I am hungry. What do you have for me tonight?” 

“Bagels,” Emma said, squashing the disappointment she had felt when Regina let go of her hand. She wiggled her shoulders to free herself from the backpack, and then she reached within it and found the two bagels. She handed them to Regina who surprisingly enough smiled a little at her. Perhaps she preferred bagels over sandwich. Emma would keep that in mind. 

Regina began eating, and while she did so, Emma walked around in the lair and looked around as she always did. It was like she discovered something new every time, and Regina had become more lax with all her rules. Well, she still wasn’t overly fond of Emma ‘snooping around’ in the room that used to be hidden by the curtain, but she didn’t snap if Emma ‘accidentally’ ended up in there. 

Today, Emma spotted sheets of papers laying by the piano. ‘Look With Your Heart’, Regina had named this piece, and Emma was immediately intrigued and wanted to know more, but Regina got cranky if Emma snooped through her papers, so Emma controlled her curiosity and let the papers be. 

But the mysterious song wasn’t the only thing Emma could see laying by the piano. There were also little notes neatly stacked. Emma could only read the first one, but that was more than enough. ‘A rat, Madame? Perhaps it you, who are a rat. If you wish to catch me, you must use bigger traps. Until then, I shall remain the observant servant of the opera house. O.G.’

“Put that down, Little Swan,” Regina chuckled from where she was still sitting by the wall. 

Emma put the note down and turning around she asked: “what is this?” 

Regina chuckled wickedly again. “Merely a little something for tomorrow. Be prepared for a bit of a shock.” 

“So you're not pleased about the rat trap,” Emma quickly deduced and tilted her head. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll make sure that it is known that I do not like traps. Of any kind. And I’ll make sure that it is known that I don’t like being mistaken for a RAT,” Regina mock-snarled and then chuckled again. 

“You’re enjoying this,” Emma said before she could stop herself. 

“Why yes, yes I am,” Regina said almost gleefully. “When you’re good at something, Little Swan, you should never stop doing it. And I am particularly good at causing havoc. I have done it ever since I was born.”

Emma’s mouth twisted slightly. She did not like that. She didn’t like when Regina referred to herself as some kind of disaster magnet. To Emma, Regina was the opposite of a disaster. 

“If only we could catch him in the act,” Regina mused aloud. Now her mouth was the one that twisted as she spat out the name. “Joseph Bouquet!” She clenched her hands. “If I can catch him doing what he do....” she didn’t finish the sentence. Just bared her teeth and snarled again. 

“I just want him to stop,” Emma murmured. “I want him out of the opera house, if possible. What he’s doing is wrong!”

“Fret not, Little Swan,” Regina hummed. “I’ll see to that your problem is eliminated.” She took another bite of the bagel. “Oh, this is quite good.”

“Good!” Emma smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.” She turned her back on the notes and walked over to Regina. “Are we going to sing more tonight?” 

“So eager,” Regina dryly teased with a twinkle in her dark eyes. 

Emma of course flushed. “Sorry.” 

“Did you hear me say that it was a bad thing, Little Swan? Eagerness and the urge to better oneself is the only way to move forward in this world,” Regina said as she adjusted slightly and brushed a crumb or two away from her black dress. When she did so, Emma caught a glimpse of a shiny ring with a tiny red gemstone sitting on her pinky finger. She had not seen Regina wear it before, and of course she was curious enough to ask: “is that new?” whilst nodding to the ring on Regina’s finger. 

“New?” Regina echoed and rolled her eyes. “And where on earth should I stumble upon something new? I can’t exactly stroll into the nearest mall and buy myself stuff. And even if I could, a ring certainly would not be at the top of my list.” 

Emma frowned. Why did Regina always have to give so evasive answers? It could be quite annoying sometimes, really. 

“No, it is not a new ring,” Regina continued. “It has been in my possession for a while. However, it is not something for you to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried. I was curious.”

“When are you not?” Regina asked, suddenly playful again. “I think you’re the most curious girl I’ve ever encountered. No exceptions.” She took another bite of her bagel. “For gods sake, sit down, girl. Don’t just stand there.” 

Emma sat down and rubbed her arms.

“It would be less cold if you stopped taking off your cardigan before coming here,” Regina said completely flatly and without looking at Emma. 

Emma’s mouth felt a little dry. She didn’t answer that. Couldn’t. 

“What would you like to sing today?” Regina asked, non-plussed by Emma’s silence. 

“Oh, uhm...” Emma quickly searched her brain for a clever answer. But she couldn’t. Instead she ended up asking a question: “won’t you sing instead?” 

Regina narrowed her eyes in a sort of what-did-you-just-say-to-me-way. “The last time I checked, miss Swan, I am the teacher, and YOU the student.”

“I know!” Emma said hastily. “I just... miss hearing you sing on your own.”

Regina softened at that. “I see,” she hummed. “Well, if you start singing this instance, I shall sing something for you tomorrow night. But I will NOT be held responsible for how you feel afterwards. Is that clear?” 

“I- yes,” Emma said, hastily changing her answer into the only acceptable one. 

“Good girl. Now... sing!” Regina said, slipping into the whole ‘strict teacher’-persona again. 

Emma hastily searched her brain and decided to sing the song Regina had composed yesterday. A mocking tribute to the upcoming masquerade ball, the Phantom had called it. 

‘Masquerade!

Paper faces on parade.

Masquerade! 

Hide your face so the world will never find you...’

To her delight, Regina actually laughed and said: “very good, Little Swan. And that was the highest praise Emma could get...

*****************

Once done rehearsing for the night, Regina and Emma returned to her room. Emma got herself ready for bed in the bathroom, and when she returned, Regina was already curled up in the blankets on the floor. Emma had continuously tried to convince Regina to take the bed, but Regina had denied and stated that she was used to sleeping on the floor. Emma was not. 

Emma wasn’t so sure she liked that statement, but protesting was useless, she knew that. She climbed into her bed and pulled the covers over her. “Well.... Goodnight,” she murmured. 

“Goodnight,” Regina said a tad gruffly. Then she fell silent. 

So did Emma. Talking to Regina right now would be useless. She seemed to change whenever she was in Emma’s room for the night. Became quiet and introvert. Closed off. Emma had wondered why that was. Regina did not HAVE to do this if she didn’t want to. Emma had actually told her that, but Regina had brushed her off and stated that she was going to do this for as long as it was necessary. Emma had shut up then and acknowledged that protesting wouldn’t help. But she was silently worried about Regina. She was practically awake all night. And present for all of Emma’s lessons too. That was a lot.   
When did she sleep? Did she even sleep? Emma didn’t like the idea that Regina didn’t sleep. That was not good. You couldn’t go around not sleeping. But it was not her job to tell Regina when to do what. Regina would most likely snub her off if she did. 

Emma shifted a bit in the bed. The mattress creaked. 

"Why are you so uneasy?" Regina drawled, startling Emma slightly. "If I find out it is because you're afraid I'll get very offended, Little Swan."

"I am not afraid," Emma mumbled.

"Good."

Not a complete lie, Emma told herself. She wasn't afraid of what Regina thought she was afraid of. No. 

But she was rather afraid of herself and her own thoughts. About the confession practically burning on her lips. It was in the darkness of her room that she suddenly felt bold enough to say all kinds of things to Regina. It took everything in Emma to remind herself that she could not. Absolutely not. 

But she could say something else. "Regina?"

"What is it now?" Regina snapped. "Stop being so uneasy all the time!"

"Thank you," Emma said softly. 

"For what?" Regina asked and sounded slightly taken aback by Emma's words. 

"For... For being here. For looking out for me."

Regina scoffed. "Do not thank me, Little Swan. I'm here for my own sake as well as yours."

"You're here," Emma said simply. "So... thank you." 

The room fell silent again, and Emma curled up under the blanket, closing her eyes, satisfied because she had said what she wanted to say. 

"You're welcome." The two little words were so quiet they could have been the wind blowing. 

But Emma knew that it was not, and she smiled in the darkness as she rolled onto her left side so she couldn’t see the door. Had she been here on her own, she never would have dared looking away from the door, but now that Regina was here, she had no problem with facing the wall. She knew that Regina was awake and looking out for her. Protecting her. Emma’s heart swelled a little. When she first met Regina and was scared by her, she never would have guessed that the very same woman four months later would be protecting her from an invisible enemy. How fast things could change. For the better, Emma thought to herself. She was starting to drift off and feel sleepy, and she felt completely safe, going to sleep knowing that Regina was here...

The next morning went exactly as the previous. Emma was awakened by the sound of her alarm. Regina was already awake and with wet hair. She had borrowed the shower again and could report that nothing had happened during the night. Everything had been quiet and calm, and Emma was starting to feel a bit dumb. 

“Maybe Bouquet has given up?” she suggested. “Or maybe it never was anything in the first-“

“No,” Regina interrupted. “This....” she gestured to the blanket and pillows on the floor. “Will continue until I can catch him in the act. No exceptions.” 

Emma settled for a nod and did not protest. 

“This is where I leave you,” Regina said, walking towards the mirror. “But I shall be there for your lesson.” At that, she smiled a tad sinisterly.

“What are you going to do?” Emma asked. 

“Get some breakfast, Little Swan,” was all Regina said as she opened the mirror, walked through it and disappeared. 

Once again, Emma felt tempted to follow Regina through the mirror and simply spend the day with her instead of going to her rehearsal. But of course that was not possible. Of course someone would wonder where she was. 

And so she settled for closing the mirror shut, and then walked into the bathroom to take a shower. The walls in the shower were still wet, and the room smelled faintly of something spicy. Emma never wore spicy perfume or used spicy shampoo or conditioner. The spicy stuff had to belong to Regina, and Emma wondered if it was some kind of perfume she hadn’t spotted in the lair yet. The scent was as intoxicating as Regina’s voice was, and Emma felt slightly dazed as she stepped into the shower. She was so dazed she ended up getting shampoo in her mouth. She gagged and coughed, and then got all annoyed with herself. She really shouldn’t be so dazed. She would end up hurting herself. 

Showering was over with quickly, and Emma wrenched out water of her hair and toweled off. Then she walked back into her room and opened her drawer to find some clothes. The usual white dress, and... 

No. She would skip the cardigan all together today. Regina had commented on it yesterday, and now Emma was eager to make a point of NOT wearing that damn cardigan. She didn’t want it to make it seem like she was putting on a show for Regina. Even though she was. Even though she desperately wanted Regina to notice her... 

Emma shook her head. Now she was again thinking about Regina in ways that she shouldn’t. Wouldn’t she ever learn? Why was she so goddamn stupid all the time? 

She sighed. Shook her head again as to chase the thoughts out her mind. Then she got dressed and brushed her hair. Like she was supposed to.....

The rehearsal went fine. Emma sang along and made an effort not to look up towards the bridge or Box Five. She knew that Regina was there somewhere. And she furthermore knew that Regina was up to something. 

But nothing happened. Regina was keeping entirely quiet. 

Emma was puzzled. Didn’t Regina say that she was going to do something big today? So why was she keeping quiet? This was weird. 

Emma went to lunch, still wondering. 

The next lesson was equally quiet. Well, no, of course everyone was singing, but Regina-wise, there was quiet. Emma was starting to worry if something had happened. Maybe Regina had fallen ill again.   
Or simply fallen asleep. That was a possibility too. 

“Once more if you please,” Malena instructed, waving her hand. 

Emma sang along with the others, but she silently wondered if Regina truly was here. She had gotten so used to hearing Regina creep about, so now that she didn’t, the quietness unnerved her. Regina had seemed so gleeful yesterday when she spoke about the note and whatever thing she was planning on doing with it today. She had refused to tell Emma about her plans, but she had definitely appeared to be looking forward to it. So it didn’t really make sense that she now was either really quiet or simply not here. 

Emma really hoped that Regina hadn’t fallen ill again. If she had, it definitely would be Emma’s fault. She was the one making Regina do this. Regina was here for her sake. She felt incredibly guilty now, and her voice was more timid than it usually was as she sang along on the piece from ‘The Magic Flute’. She had always liked this particular piece, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Regina and why she was being so quiet. This wasn’t exactly what Emma needed. She was already distracted because Joseph Bouquet was here again. It had turned out that Maurice, the regular janitor had fallen ill. Meaning that Joseph Bouquet had to work over time. And doing that, involved a lot of maintaining in the auditorium where Emma and the rest of the choir sang. A few days ago it had been the projector, and today he was crouched behind a chair in the second row. Meaning that he was not working behind the choir like the other day, but Emma still wasn’t comfortable with having him in there. She was just certain that he was looking at them. All of them. He was a threat to them all, not just to her. And he had done this before. To Christine. Emma still did not know the details, but she had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long before Regina would tell her everything. Regina had certainly implied that Emma was ‘ready’ now. 

Emma wasn’t sure what that meant, and she didn’t care either. As long as she got to hear the full story of what had happened to Christine Daaé. 

Emma lifted her chin slightly and tried to make her voice seem a bit louder.

“Very good!” Malena praised once they were done with the piece. “I think all of you got it now. Good job.”

“Does that mean we can take a break now?” Killian asked cheekily. 

Everyone laughed. 

“No, Mr. Jones,” Malena said tightly. “You may NOT take a break. But you’re more than welcome to excuse yourself for the rest of the day and do your homework instead. Would that suit you better?” 

“No, Malena,” Killian said quickly. “Sorry.” 

Next to Emma, Lily laughed, and Emma found that to be very bold given the situation. It didn’t matter that Malena was Lily’s mother. She was still her teacher. Her very STRICT teacher. 

“Lilith,” Malena said, still tightly. “That’s enough.”

Lily turned her head and made a face at being called her full name. That was a sure way to piss her off. Call her ‘Lilith’ instead of Lily. Emma knew for a fact that Lily ‘hated’ her mother for having given her such a stupid name. But it was only whenever Lily was in trouble that Malena resolved to calling her by her full name. 

“Now... if everyone is done being amused,” Malena said between gritted teeth. “Perhaps we can move alone?” her gaze rested on Lily for a moment. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Lily said sullenly and stuck out her bottom lip. 

Emma bit her own not to laugh. It could be very amusing to witness some of the altercations between Lily and Malena. 

“Or perhaps I should make all of you do your homework instead,” Malena muttered as she flicked through her sheets of paper. “Maybe that would be better...”

Now Lily wasn’t the only one laughing. But Malena seemed to smile a little as well, so she clearly wasn’t nearly as pissed off as she seemed. She did have a great sense of humor despite everything. 

Emma hid a yawn behind her hand. She’d had some difficulties with falling asleep last night. She always had whenever she had sustained like she did last night. That stupid, tingling sensation in her body always returned full force whenever she was laying in bed, and she had been wiggling and shifting until Regina snappily had asked if she was getting sick or something. Emma had of course denied that. 

But at the same time she hadn’t told Regina what the problem was. That her body was tingling because Regina had held her hand for a moment or two. It was simply too stupid to ever be said aloud to anyone. And least of all Regina. 

Emma had never been better at keeping secrets after coming to Paris.

“I think we will move onto.... The last trial piece,” Malena continued, clapping her hands as she always did whenever she wanted their attention. “We still have some problems there, I believe. There’s still something that simply does not work. I think the problem is in the second row, so I’d like to go through the piece with the second row and Ruby only so I can get a sense of what the problem is. Ruby, are you ready to give it a shot?”

“Always,” Ruby smiled and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. 

“Excellent. Remember, second row only,” Malena said as she looked at the choir. “And in three, two-“

Clang!

Malena never got to finish the countdown. Tension immersed in the choir as they were distracted from sounds coming from the bridge above them. 

Malena too looked up there. Her blue eyes narrowed. “What is going on up there?” she said more to herself than to anyone in particular. 

She never got an answer. Instead there was more shuffling, and the next second most of the choir screamed in shock and quickly disbanded to take shelter as some kind of object suddenly fell from the bridge with a loud THUD!

“What the hell?!” Malena barked, as Joseph Bouquet came running towards them. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked, panting slightly. “What the hell was that?!”

“That...” Malena walked to the center of the room where the object had landed. “Is a very good question, Monsieur Bouquet!”

Recovered from the shock, Emma turned her head just in time to see the object Malena had just picked up. It was in fact the cage that had been put up on the bridge in order to catch ‘the rat’. Emma could see that a little note had been stuck inside the cage.

Now Malena pulled the note out of the cage and unfolded it. Her eyes quickly scanned the little scrawl, lips moving as she silently formed each word, and Emma knew exactly what those words where. 

Malena paled. “Class dismissed,” she said without looking up from the note. 

Muttering erupted in the choir. Anna looked frightened, Lily and Belle confused. Ruby concerned. 

“Would you like me to take a look up there, ma’am?” Bouquet offered. “To see what’s going on?”

“No,” Malena said tightly. “Absolutely not!” she once again looked at the note in her hand. Her mouth became a thin line and her forehead crinkled. 

“Are you sure, ma’am?” Bouquet asked. “It is no trouble for me to-“

“I said no!” Malena barked. “Nobody is going up there!” she glanced towards the of course empty bridge. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing at all. It could just as well have been a gust of wind blowing the trap down. The wind... or a ghost. 

Emma tried not to shiver. Even though she knew exactly who was behind this, and even though nobody had gotten hurt, it still was a little scary. Mostly because Malena had gone almost deathly pale. She did not look like a woman who was prepared to chalk this up to being a coincidence. And she couldn’t. Not with the note Regina had written to her. 

Then Lily took a brave step forward: “mum?” she carefully asked. “What’s going on?” 

“I said class dismissed!” Malena snapped. “Now is not the time to ask questions, Lilith! Everybody out! Now. Hurry up!”

Everyone in the choir, Emma included, immediately did as they were told and shuffled towards the door. 

“Monsieur Bouquet,” Malena said discreetly. “I am going to need a moment of your time.”

Oh, how Emma would have liked to be a fly on the wall so she could hear what they were talking about, but she had no other choice than to leave with the others. The choir almost piled up at the door.   
Everyone was eager to get out of there, and Killian of course had his own theories about what was going on. 

Once out of the auditorium, the door was closed firmly behind them. Everyone hurried away. Except for Lily who put a hand on Emma’s arm and murmured: “wait. We gotta hear this, right?” 

Emma nodded wordlessly and guided by Lily, she crept back towards the door that had pretty much just been slammed in their faces. 

Lily pressed her ear against the door, and after a second, Emma did the same. She didn’t normally listen by the door, and it was pretty difficult to hear through the thick door, but she still managed to pick up on a piece of the conversation that Malena was having with Bouquet: 

“-Need to find Mr. Gold and inform him of this!”

“Yes, ma’am,” came Bouquet’s gruff response. “But exactly what should we tell him?”

“We should tell him...” there was a pause, and for a second all Emma could hear was Malena pacing back and forward on her high heels. Then: “we tell him.... that it is happening again!”

More silence. More pacing back and forward. And heavy footsteps. Bouquet’s. Emma recoiled at hearing those heavy footsteps, but she couldn’t force herself not to listen to this. 

“Again, ma’am?” Joseph Bouquet muttered quietly. “Are you certain that-“

“Yes, monsieur Bouquet,” Malena said just as hushed. “I am VERY certain. In fact there’s not a sliver of doubt in my mind.... The Phantom of the Opera.......... is back!”

To Be Continued..........


	35. Night Unfurls Its Splendor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iconic Phantom moment coming up!

Lily squeezed Emma’s arm so hard it almost hurt, but Emma barely noticed it. She was far too busy wrapping her head around this. She clearly remembered that Malena had dismissed ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ as being untrue. She had clearly not believed it. But now she had just proved the opposite by saying what she had just said. That the Phantom of the Opera was back. Malena believed in the story, that was clear as day. 

“- have to inform the other teachers about it,” Malena hissed behind the closed door. “But none, and I repeat, NONE of the students must know! I don’t want cause panic in the opera, is that clear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Joseph Bouquet murmured. “My lips are sealed.”

“Meanwhile, we have to make sure that nothing seems changed,” Malena continued, voice tight and seriously. “I don’t want of the student to fear for their safety.”

“But ARE they safe, ma’am?” Bouquet asked quietly. “The last time-“

“I know perfectly well what happened the last time, Bouquet,” Malena snapped. “The creaking. The notes. The demands of Box Five being left empty. The perfectly well functioning chandelier suddenly falling down...”

Emma zoned out for a moment. The perfectly well functioning chandelier. Only five months ago, Malena had said that the chandelier had fallen because of a malfunction. But that had clearly been a lie.   
And Malena most DEFINITELY believed in the Phantom of the Opera!

“And... And Christine Daaé, madame?” Bouquet muttered. “Don’t you think it is time to perhaps reconsider what really-“

“No!” Malena barked, and her heels clacked against the floor. “Christine Daaé died by accidental drowning, Bouquet, and that’s the end of THAT story. Her accident has nothing to do with what is going on now. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joseph Bouquet said hastily. “Of course.” 

“Good,” Malena said. Her voice was still tight. “Now go. Find Mr. Gold and tell him that I need to speak to him in my office. Hurry!”

Footsteps approached the door- heavy footsteps!-, and immediately realizing that they didn’t have a chance to get out of there before Malena would bust them for eavesdropping, Emma grabbed Lily’s hand and tugged her into the small space between the wall and the door.

Just in time. The door was opened and made Emma and Lily disappear behind it, and through the tiny little crack, Emma saw Joseph Bouquet’s worn out old shoes disappear. He was whistling a little tune to himself as he went. Either he wasn’t taking it seriously at all, or he was simply too drunk to realize the supposed gravity of the situation. Emma felt a twinge of anger at the way he had spoken so casually about Christine Daaé a moment ago. He was the one who had stalked her. He was the one everyone should be afraid of. 

After a moment, lighter footsteps followed, and Emma saw Malena’s high heels through the crack between the door and the floor. She was walking faster than Joseph Bouquet, and it didn’t take long before she disappeared down the long hallway too.

Once certain she really was gone, Emma peered out from behind the door. Empty. Quiet. She pushed the door away and stepped out from the impromptu hiding space with Lily following closely behind her. 

“Okay, but what the fuck is going on here?!” Lily exclaimed. 

“I don’t know,” Emma lied. 

“’The Phantom of the Opera is back’?!” Lily quoted and flailed her arms. “What does that even MEAN?” 

“I don’t know that either.” 

“But you’ve heard the stories too,” Lily continued and started pacing back and forward. “All those stupid ghost stories Killian tells!”

“Yeah. I’ve heard those,” Emma said vaguely. 

“Mum.... BELIEVES them?” Lily stopped pacing and stared at Emma with eyes as wide as saucers. “But she has told me a hundred times that she-“

“Maybe she didn’t want to scare you?” Emma suggested. 

“To hell with being scared!” Lily huffed. “She’s been lying to my face this whole time! And now she’s planning on covering this up too!”

“What other choices does she have?” Emma asked slightly distracted. This had been a bold move on Regina’s part. A VERY bold move. In fact it had been a move so bold it was bordering on recklessness.   
She knew that Regina had wanted everyone to know that she was there, but Emma had not expected Malena to react like this. She hadn’t expected Malena to actually believe in the stories. And she had told Bouquet to find Mr. Gold. She would tell him about this. And then what would happen? What if another search of the opera would be arranged? What if Regina would be discovered this time? 

“What do you mean?” Lily asked and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. 

“Think about it,” Emma said, hastily snapping out of it. “What do you think you would have said if your mom had told you about this? Don’t you think you would have gotten at least a little bit scared?”

Lily nodded almost reluctantly. “Yeah. I suppose so. But this is crazy! I mean, does it mean that there IS actually some... some FREAK living in the opera house?!”

“I don’t know,” Emma said and tried to keep her voice neutral despite wanting to snap at Lily for calling Regina a freak. Regina was NOT a freak! “but I think we should get going,” she continued and turned around. “Come on.” 

Together they walked through the hallway and into the canteen where most of the choir had gathered even though it was not dinner nor lunch time. Everyone was muttering quietly. Some of them looked scared. Killian was spewing theories. Belle’s expression was a mixture of confusion and concern.

But Ruby’s expression was the one that really got to Emma. Her forehead was scrunched, and her eyes closed tightly. She was pressing two fingers to her temples as though she had a headache, and she didn’t even seem to have noticed that Belle was gently stroking her arm to soothe her. 

Emma and Lily sat down by Ruby and Belle’s table. They did not greet or say anything else. Right now was not a time for words. That much was certain. 

Emma didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She desperately wanted to go to Regina and warn her that Malena was on to her, but she couldn’t leave now. It would be suspicious if she left now. 

“She can’t brush it under the rug anymore,” Ruby suddenly said through gritted teeth. “Not when the answer is staring us right in the face!”

“Ruby,” Belle said softly with just a hint of warning to it. She glanced around at the younger students. A reminder for Ruby not to scare them. 

Emma too gave Lily a look. They couldn’t reveal what they had just heard. For starters because they weren’t meant to have heard it. They had no business listening to a private conversation behind a closed door. And they couldn’t start a panic because they started blabbering. It was bad enough, Emma thought to herself, that three people knew that the Phantom of the Opera had caused this. Ruby. Malena Drake. Joseph Bouquet. And soon Mr. Gold too. 

Emma tried not to squirm on the chair. She was desperate to head down to the lair and warn Regina. This was getting dangerous. Emma was torn. Yes, she wanted to bust Joseph Bouquet. She wanted him   
out of the opera house for what he was doing to her and had done to Christine. But she didn’t want Regina to endanger herself. She didn’t want Regina to be caught. Regina getting caught would be an absolute disaster. 

Emma’s stomach tied in knots. This was Bouquet’s fault. If only he hadn’t started his creepy night activities, all of this wouldn’t have been necessary. Regina wouldn’t have gone back to being ‘the Phantom of the Opera’, and she wouldn’t endanger herself like this. 

“What do you think will happen now?” Killian suddenly asked as he leaned in. “I mean, will the rest of the lessons be cancelled or what?”

“I don’t think so,” Belle said quickly, soothingly. “They just have to find out what’s going on, that’s all.” 

“Isn’t it pretty obvious what’s going on?” Killian scoffed. “That trap didn’t fall down on its own, did it? Someone obviously-“

“Killian.” Ruby interrupted, speaking for the first time in a long while. “Shut up, okay? Seriously. Saying shit isn’t gonna help the situation.”

For once in his life, Killian looked chastened and kept his mouth shut. 

All conversation was interrupted when Malena came walking through the canteen. Her blue eyes were gleaming dangerously, and her cheeks were flushed with anger. Emma had never seen her look so agitated before. Exactly what had been said during her meeting with Mr. Gold? Had he rebuffed her? It certainly looked like it. 

Once again, Emma felt torn. Mr. Gold, the owner of the Palais Garnier and the man in charge of everything dismissing Malena’s theory about The Phantom of the Opera was a good thing. Everyone would listen to him. Everyone would think he was the voice of reason. But at the same time, Emma felt guilty too. Malena had been nothing but good to her. It wasn’t fair that her suspicion should be rebuffed. 

Especially because that suspicion was completely true. 

But if Emma had to pick only one person she wanted to get out of this scout free, she would pick Regina. And she would do it over and over and over again. Even if it meant ‘sacrificing’ Malena.

“Mum?” Lily jumped up from her chair and rushed after her mother. “Mum, are you okay?” she disappeared around the corner to catch up with her mother. 

Emma waited exactly five minutes. Then she got up from her chair too. 

“Where are you going?” Ruby asked and looked at her. 

“I don’t feel so good,” Emma lied and made sure to sound completely innocent and the littlest bit on the verge of tears. “I’m dizzy. I think it might be the shock or something.” That wasn’t pushing it.   
During her first weeks here, Emma had gotten a certain reputation as a scaredy cat. At the time, she had been highly annoyed about it, but now she was thrilled. Because it meant that no one would question if she left. Not even Ruby. She didn’t suspect Emma of anything anymore. Certainly not of being involved anything regarding The Phantom of the Opera.

“I totally get that,” Belle nodded. “What happened was pretty scary.”

“It was,” Emma mumbled and bit her bottom lip for effect. 

“Then go,” Belle said kindly. “Go and chill for a while. I don’t think there’ll be anymore lessons today, and if there will, I’ll tell Malena that you’re not feeling well.”

“Thanks, Belle,” Emma smiled. “I’ll see you later.” She turned around and walked out of the canteen. Biting her bottom lip again, but this time not for effect and to seem to convincing. But because she felt guilty. When had it become so easy for her to lie to her friends? She had just spun a very convincing story in a manner of seconds and told it without as much as batting an eye. Awful. That was just awful.   
She had gone from never telling a single lie in her life to lying on a daily basis. 

But she did not have any other choice. She HAD to protect Regina no matter what. 

Emma returned to her room and closed the door behind her. Locked it. Sat down on her bed for a moment. Tried to clear her head. She was relieved that Malena’s meeting with Mr. Gold seemingly hadn’t gone well, but the cancellation of today’s lesson worried her. It would only be a matter of time before the rumor mill would start running. 

A branch knocked against the window and gave Emma a fright. It was a windy day in Paris. It was getting darker too. Actually, it had been fairly dark and gloomy all day. 

Emma got up from her bed and walked over to the mirror. She couldn’t wait any longer. She HAD to see Regina. And warn her about the fact that Malena was on to her. She pushed the mirror aside and revealed the opening behind it. Then she walked through it. She didn’t bring the torch with her this time. And she also forgot to take off her cardigan. But maybe that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.   
Regina had commented on Emma’s tendency to take it off before coming to the lair. Emma suspected that the older woman even had been amused about it, so today, Emma was going to keep her cardigan on, damnit! She did not want Regina to know that she was enhancing her appearance for her sake. She did not want to give Regina anymore reason to laugh at her. 

For once, Emma didn’t feel cold as she walked through the dark passage. Perhaps keeping the cardigan on was going to be a regular thing from now on.

She didn’t feel scared either. She hadn’t felt scared for a very long time even though the passage was dark and dank. Eager to see Regina, she quickened her pace, but stopped walking all together when she remembered something. The water. She couldn’t get past it on her own. What was she supposed to do now? 

Emma sighed as she looked defeat in the eyes. Why hadn’t she thought of this? Why hadn’t she just waited until Regina came for her instead of rushing in here like an idiot? 

Emma felt stupid as she turned around. She might as well start the walk back to her room. And wait until Regina showed up. Which wouldn’t be until later. Muttering to herself, Emma began the walk back through the passage. God damnit. She had wanted to warn Regina NOW!

But she would have to wait. The passageway was flooded. And unless she swam, there was no way to get through the water. And Emma wasn’t very keen on swimming. The water had to be pretty deep for a boat to be able to float. And Emma got the shivers just from thinking about deep water. It had been like that ever since she had heard about Christine Daaé’s fate. How she had drowned in the underground lake. What a terrible fate to suffer!

Emma shivered slightly. Maybe she shouldn’t be thinking so much about Christine’s faith when she was walking around down here, almost surrounded by water. hadn’t been walking for a very long time before she heard shuffling coming from further down the long and twisty passage. Emma immediately stopped and listened. 

“Who’s there?” 

Goosebumps erupted on Emma’s skin. She knew who that voice belonged to. But god, Regina could sound positively eerie when she wanted to! Her voice was all deep and ghostly sounding, but Emma   
wasn’t entirely sure if she was scared or... something else.

“Me,” Emma called back before she could get the chance to investigate further in how she was feeling.

“What are you doing here?” came Regina’s voice from the lair. She sounded like she was very agitated by this. “This is not what we agreed! Do you enjoy putting yourself in danger by fumbling about in the passage all alone? Are you really that much of an idiot?!”

Ouch. Emma bowed her head and bit her lip even though Regina couldn’t see her. “No...”

There was silence in the lair for a moment. Then she heard Regina sigh so long and deeply it sounded like she was suffering. Maybe she was. 

Emma was starting to feel like one. An idiot, that was. Because Regina was right, this was not their original agreement. And perhaps she was right, perhaps Emma WAS putting herself in danger by venturing down here alone. Maybe she should just go back and wait until Regina showed up. Like they agreed on. Yes, coming here had been idiotic. Impulsive. She really shouldn’t have. 

“Stay put,” came Regina’s voice through the passage. Now she just sounded tired. Which was sort of even worse than her anger. 

Emma heard shuffling coming from the lair. And she couldn’t be certain, but it SOUNDED like low cussing. Regina didn’t cuss a lot, not like Lily or Ruby. So when Regina DID cuss, it never failed to rattle   
Emma. And she had learned that Regina only cussed when she really meant business. 

Emma feared that she was very much in trouble, but she still stayed put. She wasn’t interested in attracting Regina’s wrath once more. She plucked nervously at the sleeve of her cardigan. Fiddled with her   
ponytail. Pushed her glasses up her nose. Shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Tried not to look as timid as she felt. 

More shuffling, and then Emma saw the boat emerge around the corner. Regina was standing in it and rowing it forward. And she was wearing the cloak and the black fedora again. She was rowing the boat with quick, snappy movements. So maybe she was really angry at Emma for doing this. 

Now Emma felt really bad, and she didn’t even dare smiling when the boat and Regina came closer. She felt like a little girl as she stood there with her head bowed and looked at her shoes. 

A moment later, it was time for Emma to climb inside the boat. Which she tried her best to do. But the floor was slightly slippery and the distance between the boat and herself was just a little too wide. 

She wasn’t sure she could do this without tripping. And she felt awkward for fumbling like this.

Regina sighed a little as she sat the oar down and the boat tipped a little as she walked to the middle of it. But of course she remained standing upright. Emma couldn’t really picture Regina as the kind of person who tripped. That was more Emma’s style. 

“For gods sake,” Regina murmured as she outstretched her hands towards Emma. “Come here.”

Emma took the hands being offered to her. Regina was not wearing the black gloves today, and her hands were very soft and warm. And despite how irritated she sounded, her movements were quite gentle as she helped Emma into the boat. She wasn’t squeezing Emma’s hands or pulling or tugging at her. 

Soon Emma was sitting at the bow of the boat with Regina standing behind her, rowing the boat forward through the water which seemed to have risen a bit. 

Emma had expected that Regina would row her to the lair in silence and then leave more disapproving comments when they reached their destination, so she was quite surprised when Regina suddenly said: “you’re not, by the way.”

“What?” Emma turned her upper body slightly so she could look at Regina. 

“Sit still. You’ll rock the boat.”

“Sorry.”

Regina resumed rowing and she had just navigated the boat around the corner when she spoke again: “an idiot. You’re not an idiot. I should not have said that to you. That was harsh and unnecessary. I do hope you know that.”

“Oh.” Emma could have been knocked over with a feather. Was Regina... apologizing to her? Or at least attempting to do so? That was not something that happened on a regular basis.

“But you have to understand that you cannot come down here on a whim,” Regina continued. “I have to know exactly when you’ll be here. Otherwise I cannot protect you from the person skulking around outside your room at night.”

“I know,” Emma said quickly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“That is not a very good excuse, Little Swan,” Regina calmly retorted. “You’re not a child. You’re old enough to know that your actions have consequences.” 

“I’m sorry,” Emma repeated. But she didn’t feel very chastened. Instead she felt as light as a feather. Because Regina had said that she was not a child. Regina didn’t see her as a child. Emma’s heart swelled.

They had made it to the lair where the floor was still dry. The boat rocked slightly as Regina elegantly climbed out. She brushed her cloak slightly and then turned around, outstretching her hands towards Emma again. 

Emma eagerly grabbed Regina’s hands and let the Phantom help her out of the rocking boat. 

“There we are,” Regina said lightly once Emma was standing on the floor. She turned around and took off the black fedora. Ran her fingers through her hair a couple of times. “Now... What was it that was   
so important that it absolutely could not wait until later?”

Oh. Right. There had been a purpose with Emma’s journey here. She hadn’t just come here to see Regina and spend time with her. There was a point with it all. She had to remember that. 

“Well?” Regina prompted, turning around again and ridding herself of the feather cloak. She was wearing a pearly grey floor length velvet dress with a rather plunging V-neck. Emma found it pretty hard to concentrate about anything else except for looking at Regina’s skin, but she pulled herself together.

“My teacher knows you exist!” Emma blurted out. “She dismissed the lesson after having read your note!”

Regina raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem alarmed in anyway. “I say. And so what?”

“Well, she... she believed in it- in you- three years ago too!” 

“I’m sure she does. I wasn’t exactly being subtle in my anger back then,” Regina said calmly. “A chandelier doesn’t just magically detach from the ceiling unless its helped along.”

“She said that ‘The Phantom of the Opera is back’!” Emma hastily yapped off, desperate to make Regina understand the gravity of the situation. “I heard it myself! She said so to Bouquet!”

“I see,” Regina suddenly smiled. “So Joseph Bouquet knows that I exist too. How very interesting.” 

“What does that even mean? Why aren’t you WORRIED?” Emma asked, slightly exasperated.

“Worried about what exactly, Little Swan?” Regina asked calmly. “That all of your teachers will come rushing down here with pitchforks and torches?”

“Well... Yes!”

Regina laughed. “They do not know about this lair, dear. They know about the passageway. And the underground lake-“ she nodded towards the exit of the lair. “But not of this place. The last time any other except myself was down here, the entrance to the lair was sealed off. So there was nothing to see.” 

“Who had sealed it off?” Emma asked. 

“I had.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t planning on coming back.”

“Why not?” Emma was curious now. What could have prompted Regina to wanting to leave the lair and not come back? And where would she have gone?

“That’s another story for another time,” Regina brushed her off. “Are you satisfied now that I have soothed your fears?”

“But they’re not soothed!” Emma protested. “Not at all!”

“No? What more is there to be worried about then?” Regina lightly asked. She still appeared to be amused. 

“What if someone sees you when you’re on the bridge? Or in Box Five?! What if they CATCH you?! They can’t do that! You have to be-“

“Little Swan,” Regina interrupted, still sounding completely calm. “Your concern is... touching. But I know what I am doing. I have played ‘hide and seek’ with everyone I’ve crossed paths with since before   
you were born. I can handle a few suspicious teachers.”

“I don’t want you to get caught!” Emma said with a firmness that surprised even her. “That can’t happen!”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to let myself be caught?” Regina retorted and folded her arms across her chest. “Do you not trust my ability to hide?” 

“Of course I trust you!” Emma said quickly. God knows she trusted Regina more than she trusted most people. “It’s the others I don’t trust!”

Regina chuckled and clicked her tongue. “That’s very clever of you, dear. You cannot trust anyone. Remember that.”

“I mean it,” Emma said, exasperated again. “I don’t want anyone to-“

“So worried,” Regina interrupted and shook her head slightly. “So concerned about things you should not be concerned about.”

“Not be concerned about?” Emma echoed and raised an eyebrow. “You are risking getting caught because of ME! Of course I’m worried!”

“I’m not only doing this because of you, Little Swan. I’m doing it as much for my own sake,” Regina corrected.

“But you’re still doing it!” Emma said earnestly and wrung her hands. “The reasons doesn’t matter, you’re still putting yourself out there and I don’t want anything to happen to-“

“Enough,” Regina sharply interrupted. 

Emma wisely kept her mouth shut and bowed her head. She had never argued with Regina like she had right now. And she feared that that had just gotten her in trouble with Regina. And then she   
wondered how she had gotten so brave. She didn’t normally protest and argue and challenge Regina like she had done a moment ago. Emma was not an argumentative nature. Normally, she was quite ‘submissive’ and non-confrontational, so this was all very surprising. If she had to start arguing, couldn’t she have chosen someone else than the Phantom of the Opera instead?

“Look,” Regina said, voice less sharp now. The high heels she was wearing clacked slightly against the stone floor as she walked over to Emma. 

Emma reluctantly looked up from the floor. Now she was definitely about to be told off. 

But Regina’s voice was still gentle when she said: “you cannot work yourself into a frenzy so intense you come storming down here in the middle of the afternoon. And you cannot worry so much you speed talk like you did a moment ago. When I tell you that there’s nothing to worry about, there’s nothing to worry about. I have everything under control. Your job is to keep your head down and sing. Do   
you think you can do that?”

“Yes,” Emma murmured and forced herself to look at Regina instead of at the floor.

“Good.”

“Are you gonna kick me out?” Emma asked and glanced towards the exit of the lair.

Regina laughed. “No. Do you think I rowed you all the way here to exchange opinions with you and then row you back? Absolutely not. I’m afraid you have to stay for a while now.”

“That’s completely fine with me,” Emma said frankly. 

Regina gave her a look and her voice sounded a bit tired when she said: “don’t... say that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because nobody prefers a dank, flooded lair over what is upstairs,” Regina said plainly. 

“I like it here.”

Regina scoffed. 

“I do!”

“I know you do,” Regina sighed. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Why’s that the problem?” 

“Why, why, why,” Regina drawled and squinted slightly behind the half-mask. “Why are you asking me so many questions, hmm?”

“Because I’m curious!”

Regina laughed almost bitterly. “I know. That’s a problem too.” she turned around and disappeared into the room behind the curtain for a moment. When she came back, she was holding a hairbrush.   
Without much further ado, she sat down on one of the larger stones and began running the brush through her dark locks. She mumbled under her breath and cussed slightly. Maybe this was what Emma had interrupted her in a moment ago. Brushing her hair. 

Emma was absolutely fascinated with watching Regina brushing her hair. There was just something about the way Regina slowly ran the brush through her hair. From root to tip and then repeating the motion again. 

“Well, are you just gonna stand there?” Regina asked and glanced at Emma. 

Emma walked over and sat down on another of the bigger stones. Not entirely comfortable, but she could handle it. 

“Tell me,” Regina chuckled as she ran the brush through her dark curls again. “Did your teacher get very scared?”

“I think everyone got scared,” Emma said simply. “Didn’t you hear everyone yell?”

“I did,” Regina cackled. “It was quite.... entertaining, to be honest. The way your little friends reacted, you’d think that I had brought down another chandelier when all I did was to give a rat trap a kick.”

“It was... pretty effective,” Emma murmured. Such an understatement, but it was the best she could do right now.

“It was,” Regina said almost cheerfully. “And did you get scared, Little Swan?”

“No,” Emma said immediately. 

Regina raised an eyebrow. 

“I knew that it was you,” Emma clarified. “I mean, who else would it be?”

“Who indeed,” Regina half-chuckled. “There’s only one Phantom of the Opera.”

“You’re enjoying this,” Emma said like she had said once before. It was so obvious that Regina was delighted with her own doing.

“I am enjoying seeing justice being served,” Regina replied and stopped brushing her hair for a moment. She tossed Emma a look. “Do you not want Bouquet to stop what he’s doing to you?”

“Of course I do,” Emma said quickly. “You know that.” 

The Phantom sighed. “Then why are you still all tense, Little Swan?” 

Emma didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to tell Regina that she was still worried about her being caught. She was worried about what would happen then. What would become of Regina if she was banished from the opera house? Even if she avoided prison, where should she go? Back to a life on the street? Emma’s stomach twisted at the mere thought of that. She could not let that happen. Ever. 

“So serious,” Regina commented and interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so concerned.” She stopped brushing her hair and looked at Emma instead. “You’re   
frowning,” she commented. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m worried about you,” Emma openly admitted. “I can’t help it.” 

Regina sighed and put the hairbrush down. “You need to relax,” she said simply. 

“I don’t know how,” Emma muttered and fiddled with her hands in her lap. It was true, she was all tense. The slightest sound had her jumping and immediately thinking that a mob lead by Malena would come bursting inside the lair with pitchforks and torches. “I just-“

“I cannot handle when you are like this,” Regina interrupted and tossed her hair back over one shoulder. “You have to calm down, Little Swan.”

“How?” Emma murmured. She felt tense and on edge. Scared for Regina. Scared of Joseph Bouquet and his nightly activities in the dormitory. Scared that Malena would start asking questions and poke   
around. 

“Well...” Regina rose from the stone on the floor. She looked at Emma. “I did promise you to sing for you, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Emma nodded. “You’ll sing for me?” that was something she almost had forgotten about. But now that Regina mentioned it, she did remember what Regina had said about singing for her. And Emma   
could remember how excited she had been about that.

“Yes. I have a feeling that will make you relax,” Regina said and weighted the hairbrush in her hand. “But remember what I said. I will not be held responsible for how you react to it. Is that understood?”

“Yes, but why-“

“No more questions. Do you want me to sing for you or not?”

“Yes! More than anything!”

“Stay here,” Regina said simply. She walked back inside the room behind the curtain with the hairbrush in her hand. 

Emma of course stayed exactly where she was sitting. She felt her skin prickle with excitement. Finally, Regina would sing for her. Really sing for her. For some reason, Emma had a feeling that this would be different from the other things Regina had sung for her. And she could barely wait to find out why tonight would be so different. Regina had looked so serious. Almost stern. Regina wasn’t usually like that before singing. And lately, she had been much more calm and relaxed. Joking. But not tonight, apparently. 

Emma shifted on the stone and fiddled with her hands in her lap. Bit her lip. She suddenly felt warm and unbuttoned her cardigan. Wiggled out of it. She had been cold with concern when she arrived here, but now she definitely was not anymore. When Regina re-emerged, she was not holding the hairbrush anymore. She looked thoroughly at Emma. Still serious.

Emma flashed her a little smile and was on the verge of asking her another question, but then Regina started singing: “’Nighttime, sharpens, heightens each sensation, darkness wakes, and stirs imaginations...’” her deep, rich vocals filled the lair and made Emma think about melting chocolate. “’Silently the senses.... abandons their... defenses.....’” she came closer and outstretched a hand towards Emma. 

Of course Emma took Regina’s hand and let her pull her up from the stone she had been sitting on. Regina’s fingers locked around her hand. The grasp was strong. Secure. Safe. All the things that had worried Emma suddenly disappeared and she couldn’t even remember why she had been so worried a moment ago. She could not stop looking at Regina either. Couldn’t stop looking into those deep, dark eyes that held so many secrets. And gave Emma so many answers.

“’Helpless to resist the notes I write, for I compose the music of the night...’”

Emma inhaled softly. Her eyes never left Regina’s. How could she do anything but look at her tutor and her mentor? The Angel of Music whom was singing for her.

“’Slowly, gently, night unfurls it’s splendor,’” Regina softly sang as she let go of Emma’s hand.

Emma silently mourned the loss, but could not reach for Regina. Her arm felt heavy as it hung limply down her side. All of her felt heavy. 

“’Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender, turn your face away from the garish light of day...’” Regina gently grabbed Emma’s chin and turned her face away. Her fingers were still warm, and Emma instinctively squirmed to get closer to the touch. How could she do anything else?

“’Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light...’” Emma’s face was turned towards Regina again. Closer than ever. If she dared, Emma could have leaned in and sealed her fate right then and there.

“’And listen to the music of the night!’” Regina released her chin all together, but her hand were still hovering in the air. Moving and gently covering Emma’s eyes, but Emma was not unnerved by this at all. She just stood still, unable to see. She did not need to see. Only listen.

“’Close your eyes, and surrender to your darkest dream! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before... Close your eyes... let your spirit start to....soar!’” Regina’s hand moved upwards with the ‘soar’ and Emma’s head followed along and tipped backwards. Her eyes slid closed and she had to sigh. Regina’s voice was soft and smooth as velvet. It felt like it was penetrating Emma’s skin and wrapping around her bones. She had to bite her lip. It felt like her heart was skipping beats. The last tune hung in the air. Like a delicate soap bubble just waiting to burst. How was it possible for one person to change her voice so much? The little hairs on Emma’s arms were standing up, and her knees were starting to feel like jelly. She felt weak, so weak. It was like she had forgotten how to breathe properly. Or like Regina’s voice was her oxygen right now. Her source of live.

“’....And you’ll live.... As you’ve never lived before....’”

Emma opened her eyes again. Regina was standing right in front of her. Her eyes were darker than ever. Gleaming with something she had never seen before.

Emma so wanted to touch her, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t seem to move a muscle. Until Regina walked backwards and crooked a finger at Emma. Then she was capable of moving again. Her legs walked unprompted. She followed Regina as if pulled by a string. She followed the music. Her oxygen. Her gaze remained locked with Regina’s. Her dark eyes was pulling Emma in and urging her forward. And Emma was willingly pulled in. She was willing to loose herself completely in Regina’s voice. Drown in it. Drink it in until her lungs burned and screamed for oxygen.

“’Softly, deftly, music shall caress you, hear it, feel it, secretly possess you,” Regina sang, her voice was both soft and strong at the same time. So raw. She was still in control over every note she sang, but there was a rawness and an edge to her voice Emma had never heard before. 

She stopped, and Emma nearly stumbled. “Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight.... The darkness of the music of the night!’”

Emma’s legs nearly gave in as she turned around and stumbled backwards. Suddenly, she could no longer bear to look at Regina. It was too much. Too intense. Like Regina had opened a door to her mind and could see any thought Emma ever had had about her. Every last little thing. “’Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world, leave all thoughts of the world you knew before.... Let your soul take you where you long to... be!’”

The last ‘be’ boomed through the lair, more powerful than Emma ever had experienced in her life. Her head lulled backwards on its own accord, her hair tumbled down her back. Her hands curled by into fists. Her mouth fell open and an audible gasp escaped her as her breath hitched. It felt as though the music was inside of her. Coursing through her veins and filling her with hope and longing and.... desire. There was a certain tingling in her abdomen that left her out of breath and with trembling knees. And this time, it did not stop. It continued and continued until the feeling exploded in her abdomen and had her breath hitching once more. When it was over, she felt warm and lightheaded and extremely pleased. She draped an arm around her abdomen as another and far more relaxed and satisfied gasp tumbled from her lips. This had to be the most wonderful feeling she had ever experienced. If Regina’s voice could do this to her every time.... Then why had she been so reluctant to sing at first? It didn’t make any sense. She should sing all the time. Never ever stop. And Emma didn’t ever want to leave this lair. She wanted to stay right here with the Phantom of the Opera.

A slight movement had Emma gasping again. Regina was standing right behind her, and before Emma could even react, the Phantom had draped an arm around her neck. “’Only then.... Can you belong to....me,’” she sang in Emma’s ear, and where her voice had been strong and powerful a moment ago, it was now completely soft and gentle. Emma willingly surrendered and dropped her heavy head to rest in the crook of Regina’s elbow with a little breathy exhale.

“’Floating, falling, sweet intoxication...’” Regina’s voice was soft as honey and Emma’s body moved on its own accord as the Phantom lightly swayed her back and forward. The movement was slow and unhurried. Like a dance they somehow both knew the steps to.

“’Touch me, trust me....’”

Emma swallowed thickly. Regina’s hand was on her elbow. Gently guiding it upwards. Emma’s hand travelled up, up until it hovered merely inches from the masked side of Regina’s face. And this time there was no stopping her. No pulling back. She bit her lip when her hand connected with Regina’s face. She could feel the cold smoothness of the mask and Regina’s dark hair lightly tickling the back of her hand. 

“’Savor each sensation...’” Regina’s hand was on top of hers for a moment before it slid down her arm to her shoulder. She moved it to Emma’s collarbone and caressed her skin there with soft and warm fingers before she once again took Emma’s hand and peeled it away from her face. 

Emma immediately mourned the loss of contact, but Regina was still holding her hand. That was everything. 

“’Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in...’” Regina guided her forward and entangled their fingers. ‘...To the power of the music, that I write..... The power of the music of the.... night!’”

It was all too much. Emma’s heart was thundering in her chest. Her skin was burning where Regina had touched her, and her head felt completely foggy in the most pleasurable way. She was tingling everywhere. In her mind, she was rushing over to Regina. Grabbing her. Kissing her. Again and again and again. Until there was no oxygen left in her lungs. It would be the easiest thing in the world, finally doing what she had wanted to do for several months.

But that was just her mind talking. In reality, Emma could barely stand. The fog in her mind was getting thicker and thicker, and Emma could not focus on anything. Her legs could no longer carry her, and even though she once had sworn that this would never happen again, it was just too easy to surrender to the pair of arms catching her....

To Be Continued.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Such an iconic moment, am I right? I do hope I did it justice! 
> 
> Bonus Info: always imagine Regina's voice to be sort of similar to Rebecca Caine's :D


	36. Let Me Be Your Shelter

For the second time in her life, Emma woke up to the sound of the music box playing softly. She came to it with a little sigh and a rub to her forehead. She felt very woozy. Her brain was all foggy, and she was struggling to piece things together. Of course she knew exactly where she was. In Regina’s lair. She was laying in the boat-bed with Regina’s feather cloak covering her. When had she fallen asleep? Why had she fallen asleep? She remembered Malena dismissing the lesson. She remembered listening through the door and hearing that Malena believed in the Phantom of the Opera. She remembered being so worried she had to see Regina immediately. She remembered Regina rowing her here. She remembered talking in the lair, but then... That’s when things started to get really foggy. And as much as she struggled, she couldn’t seem to remember what else had happened. Had she just randomly keeled over from exhaustion? 

Maybe. Sometimes her system got ‘overloaded’ when she was under pressure. And everything happening with Joseph Bouquet and being worried about Regina putting herself at risk had definitely put her under a whole new type of pressure for sure. 

It wasn’t exactly comfortable, walking around with a foggy spot in her brain where her memories was supposed to have been, but right now, Emma had a feeling that trying to force herself to remember would only make things worse. So she accepted that she couldn’t remember much right now and let it go. It would come to her later. It had to. For now, she settled for carefully pushing Regina’s cloak out of the way and sitting up in the boat. God, her head was fuzzy! Emma shook it slightly in an attempt to be rid of the feeling, but it didn’t help much. And it wasn’t just her head. The rest of her body felt heavy too. And warm. Very, very warm. And particularly in... certain places. Emma bit her lip and embarrassedly pushed her hair back over her shoulder. She was not wearing her glasses anymore, but she quickly spotted them laying on a nearby stump of something that made it out for a table. Emma snatched the glasses and put them back on her nose. The world instantly became sharper. If only it had worked on her mind too, but that was still completely foggy, and feeling irritated over it wouldn’t help the matter. It would only push the memories even further back. 

Emma slowly rose from the boat and stepped out on the stone floor. Now she realized that the boat had been pushed into the room behind the curtain. Huh. Regina must have done that while Emma was asleep in it. 

Regina. 

Emma strained her ears. She could hear the faint sound of the piano playing in the lair, and that made her feel relieved. Not that she thought Regina would have left, but nevertheless, it was nice to know that she was there and all. 

She couldn’t recognize the melody Regina was playing, but it sounded beautiful. 

She walked into the lair, and the music immediately stopped. Regina rose from the little stool she sat on by the piano. She had put on her cloak again, Emma noted. “Oh, good. You’re awake,” she said, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder.

“Mmm,” Emma acknowledged. “I’m just a little.... Did I fall asleep?” 

“Yes,” Regina replied. “Quite suddenly.”

“Wow.” Emma couldn’t quite understand that. She frowned and tried to think back. But there was nothing. “What time is it? Do you know that?”

“It’s late,” Regina said, tossing Emma something. “You probably missed dinner, but I found this in your room.”

Despite still feeling woozy, Emma caught the red apple in her hand. “You’ve been in my room?” she asked. 

“Mmmhmmm.”

“To....

“To find something you could eat.”

“Oh. I- thank you.” Emma took a bite of the red apple. It was very tasty. She looked around in the lair. The water seemed to have retracted some. She remembered the water in the labyrinth. She remembered Regina calling her an idiot and then almost apologizing for it. She remembered being very concerned about the situation. And she remembered.... she remembered watching Regina brush out her long locks. But after that, nothing. Just white fog in her brain, blocking the memories. Had she fallen asleep while watching Regina brush her hair? Maybe it had been lulling her into sleepiness. Lord knows she had struggled a bit with sleep lately. Ever since Regina had started spending the night in her room. And Emma had been anxious when coming here tonight. She was sure of that. Maybe it was a combination of lack of sleep and anxiety that had sent her off to dream land. 

But if that was the case.... Why did it feel like she was missing out on something important? Why did it feel like she HAD to get access to her memories no matter what the price would be? Why did it feel like the foggy place in her brain was covering for something most important? 

“What happened before I fell asleep?”

“Pardon?” Regina looked up from the sheets of music she had busied herself looking at while Emma thought about things until her head creaked. 

“What happened?” Emma asked again. “Before I... fell asleep? I feel like something important has happened. I just can’t remember what it is!”

Regina raised an eyebrow and ran a finger over the white half-mask. “I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, Little Swan. Nothing happened. We were talking. I was trying to make you calm down because you were agitated, and then you fell asleep. So I carried you into the room there-“ she nodded towards the room behind the curtain. “And put you into the boat so you could sleep without any disturbance.” 

Emma scratched her head. That explanation sounded very plausible, but... “Really? Is that all that happened? I just.... fell asleep?” 

“Yes. Which isn’t so surprising. You were spiraling a bit when coming here.”

Emma nodded. She remembered that. But there was still something that bothered her. “And is that all that happened?” she asked again. 

“Yes, Little Swan,” Regina said calmly. “That’s all that happened.”

She sounded so steady and dismissive. Emma nodded. But there was still something niggling in the back of her head. The faintest memory she couldn’t quite fully remember. Every time she tried, it slipped away like water between her fingers. She thoughtfully took a bite of the apple Regina had given to her. If only she could remember what had happened. It still felt like she was missing out on something major. Something that had happened earlier tonight. Surely, there had to be SOME reason for her warm and breathless state, right? 

But the memory did not come to her. No matter how hard she chased it, it kept slipping away from her, and Emma was starting to feel a tad frustrated at her lack of ability to remember anything. She bit down hard on the apple and nearly choked on the too big bite. There was something. She was certain of that. If only she could remember what it was. Had she and Regina talked about something? Had Emma done something stupid?

No. If that had been the case, Regina probably would be mad. She wouldn’t just be standing there and watching her in silence. Wait, why WAS Regina being so quiet? She wasn’t normally so quiet. Something had to have happened. But what? God, this was frustrating!

Emma finished the apple and wondered what she should say.

But before she could, Regina stepped forward and handed Emma her cardigan. “Here,” she said gruffly. 

“Thank you,” Emma said meekly and took the cardigan. She slipped it on but wasn’t sure why. She was definitely not cold. More like... warm. And.... and sticky. She shifted. Why was she feeling like this?   
And why was she struggling to look Regina in the eyes for some reason? 

“Are you ready?” Regina interrupted Emma’s train of thoughts. 

Emma blinked. “For what?”

“To leave.”

“Leave?” she felt a stab of disappointment. “Already? But I-“

“You’ve been here for a long time already,” Regina interrupted. “It’s late, and you have to return before anyone starts missing you. “Come on.” she turned around and started walking towards the exit of the   
lair. “We won’t need the boat this time. The ground should be dry enough. Come along. Hurry up.”

Confused, and admittedly a bit wounded, Emma stumbled after the Phantom of the Opera as she left the lair in a rapid pace. Soon they were in the cold labyrinth again, and Regina was right. The water had indeed retracted enough for them not to get wet shoes. Regina’s high heels clacked against the raw stone floor as she went, the cloak was billowing behind her and Emma had to jog slightly to keep up with her. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, panting slightly. Why was Regina in such a hurry to get her out of the lair tonight? 

“Nothing,” Regina dismissed. “Keep up.”

Emma did her best to do that, but it was hard when Regina was walking so fast. How could she even go that fast in high heels? It didn’t make any sense.

“Did something happen?” she asked and yelped quietly when she nearly stumbled over a hidden rock.

“No. Watch where you walk, please.”

Emma could just tell that Regina was lying to her. The evidence was clear in her voice. “Have I said something wrong?” she asked. There had to be some reason for Regina’s shortness. 

“No.”

“Done something wrong then? Have I done something to upset you?” 

“No.” Regina didn’t even look back at her. She just kept on walking with the cloak billowing behind her and her heels clicking almost aggressively against the stone floor. 

“Then what is going ON?” Emma asked a tad exasperated, struggling slightly to catch her breath. 

“Nothing is going on.”

“That is not true!” Emma said firmly, now jogging again. It seemed like Regina was walking faster and faster. “There is too something wrong! Otherwise you wouldn’t act like this!”

“I am not acting in any way.”

“You are! You’re upset! I don’t know why, but I can tell that you are! So can’t you just tell me what it is I’ve said or done so I can get the chance to apologize to you?”

“There is nothing too apologize for.”

But Emma could not simply let this go. She knew there had to be something. “There is!” she protested, still running to catch up with Regina. “You’re angry with me.” sadly, it was far too easy for her to reach that conclusion. “You can keep claim that you’re not, but I can tell that you are though I don’t understand why!”

Regina didn’t even answer now. Didn’t stop. Didn’t look back. Just half-ran through the lair as though her life depended on it. 

“Regina!” Emma said and cursed herself for nearly falling over again. “I don’t understand what’s going on. You have to tell me why you’re being like this! You’re confusing me!”

But Regina didn’t tell her anything. She didn’t even react. It was like talking to a brick wall, Emma thought to herself, and she couldn’t pretend that she was not hurt because of this. She thought that she and Regina had become friends. Good friends (she quickly banished all thoughts involving more than friendship), but Regina was acting exactly like she had done when Emma first met her. All cold and dismissive and disinterested. Truly, Regina could be extremely cold when she wanted to. Her frostiness seeped into Emma’s belly and made her feel anxious and unsure. If she had done or said something wrong, she wanted to fix it. More than anything. But she couldn’t fix something she didn’t even know what was. She had been asleep for the most of it, hadn’t she? Was that why Regina was angry? Because Emma had fallen asleep? No, that couldn’t be it. Maybe something had happened WHILE Emma had been asleep. 

Emma stopped. Felt suddenly cold with dread. Had she by any chance said something in her sleep? Something about.... Regina? Emma couldn’t remember what she had dreamed. Which was pretty unusual because she usually could. She had always had vivid dreams. And certainly when it came to Regina. In fact that was when her dreams were the most vivid. Was that what was going on? Had she said something in her sleep that she should not? Something that should have stayed a secret? Was that why Regina was now angry with her? Because she had discovered the secret feelings Emma harbored for her? 

Emma swallowed something. If that thought wasn’t awful, she didn’t know what was. She did want Regina to know about her feelings, she did. She wanted to confess how she really felt about the Phantom of the Opera, but not like this. Not half-lost in a secret, forbidden dream. She wanted to do it the right way. She had a naïve hope that if she found the correct way to confess her feelings, Regina would not dismiss her. She knew it was childish to hope for more, but she couldn’t help it. When it came to Regina, she would always be hoping for more. Nothing and no one could change that.

Realizing that she was falling behind, Emma quickly started jogging again. Regina had nearly disappeared where the labyrinth turned slightly. “Wait up!” Emma called as she ran to catch up with Regina. 

Regina stopped. But once Emma was close enough, she immediately started walking again. A tad slower, perhaps, but still briskly and with no intention of waiting again. 

“Wait!” Emma called again. 

Regina did not wait. And her cloak almost swished Emma in the face as she went. 

Emma quickened her pace and now literally ran. “Wait!” 

No reaction. 

“Wait!” Emma’s chest heaved. “Stop!” before she could think about what she was doing, she had reached out and grabbed Regina’s arm to make her wait. 

Regina stopped and immediately yanked her arm out of Emma’s grasp. “Don’t do that!”

Emma let go so fast you’d think she burned herself. Her gaze dropped to the floor and everything in her cringed at the hardness in Regina’s voice. It was cold as steel and snapping like a whip being cracked. Emma sucked in her bottom lip and urged herself not to get affected by this although she already was. So, so affected. Hearing Regina speak that way to her hurt more than any physical pain ever could. What on earth had she done to make Regina this angry with her? What had happened before Emma fell asleep? If only she could remember. Then maybe she could fix whatever error she had made. It had to be something really bad for Regina to talk like this. All snappish and cold. Emma almost shivered. She had almost forgotten how frosty Regina could be. 

“Look,” Regina said. Her voice was softer now. Kinder. 

Emma looked up again. 

“I should not have snapped at you,” Regina continued and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “That was uncalled for. And I’m not angry with you either. You haven’t done anything wrong. I just... I have a lot of things on my mind right now.” 

Emma nodded slowly. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No,” Regina said. The word could have been cold and dismissive, but the way she said it was completely different from how she had spoken a moment ago. “You have nothing to worry about, Little Swan. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Emma said, accepting this. She would have liked to know what it was that was troubling Regina tonight, but she found it wiser not to ask. She had to respect that Regina would not talk about it. 

“Good,” Regina said, flashing Emma a very slight smile. “Now come on.” She outstretched a hand towards Emma. 

Emma eagerly and willingly took Regina’s hand. She smiled as she felt Regina’s fingers slip in between her own. Now things were as they always were. Almost. 

“You weren’t wearing gloves earlier, were you?” Emma asked as they continued through the labyrinth. Another clouded memory flittered past her inner eye. A memory of Regina’s clove-less hand. Her long fingers reaching out to her. Emma had followed the request. She was sure she had. She didn’t need to remember in order to know that.

“That’s right. I wasn’t,” Regina confirmed. But the lair does get chilly at night.”

“Good thing you’re not sleeping there, then,” Emma blurted out.

Regina gave a vague ‘mhmm’ in response. She was still holding Emma’s hand, and as long as she did that, Emma wasn’t overly worried. Of course she didn’t like the idea of Regina mulling over something, but she couldn’t force Regina to talk to her about what was troubling her if she didn’t want to. Regina was entitled to keep things to herself. Emma just had to respect that. As long as Regina was not angry with her. And kept holding her hand. That was something she had started doing recently. Always holding Emma’s hand when they were walking to and from the lair. Emma had never asked her why, and Regina had never addressed it either. 

Obviously, Emma wasn’t going to say anything about it. She feared that Regina would stop if she did. And she so liked it when Regina held her hand. It made her feel safe and warm. And completely besotted with Regina. She had read so many books about that big, fateful teenage romance, but she had always chalked it up to being something that only happened in books. Until now. Her feelings for Regina were bigger than the feelings she had for everybody else. It was huge and overwhelming and sometimes Emma felt like she was drowning. In the best possible way. She had never been really in love. Until now. Until she met the Phantom of the Opera. 

Regina still didn’t know her true feelings. Emma had not blabbered in her sleep. Thank god. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if that had been the case. She couldn’t exactly have taken it back and claimed that it was wrong. Her sleep talk would certainly have been evidence enough. But she had not talked in her sleep. The secret was still hers and hers alone. She still had time to figure out how she should confess to Regina. Because confess she would. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it would ruin everything, but Emma felt like she HAD to tell Regina the truth. Regina deserved the truth. And maybe- there was that naivety again- just maybe, Regina would not be angry. Or dismissive. Maybe she would even-

Emma scoffed to herself. One of these days she had to stop being so damned naïve. The chances that Regina would welcome her feelings with open arms was beyond slim. And if Emma ever believed something else, she was simply plain stupid. 

“Why are you scoffing?” Regina asked suddenly. 

Emma jumped a little. “N-no reason!”

“Hmm,” Regina copied the sound Emma had made a moment ago. “And I thought I was the strange creature amongst us.”

“You’re not a strange creature,” Emma said immediately. 

Regina’s laughter filled the labyrinth in a way that could almost have been ghostly....

Emma’s room was dark and quiet, and the red numbers on her alarm clock showed 12:00. Wow. It sure was late. Emma couldn’t quite believe that she had been asleep for that long. It seemed almost impossible. It hadn’t been that late when she arrived at the lair. She remembered as much. And she wondered if anyone had been to knock on her room door to check on her. If so, she hoped that they had assumed she was asleep. Otherwise she would have some explaining to do tomorrow. 

Once again, she felt like she was standing with one leg in each camp. Camp ‘official choir member’. And Camp ‘the Phantom of the Opera’s pupil’. How long could she do this? And WHY couldn’t she just fully cross over to the camp she truly wanted to be in?

Regina interrupted her train of thoughts by slipping off her cloak and putting it down on the floor over the blankets Emma had found for her. The blankets that made it out for a mattress.

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my duvet instead?” Emma asked for something that felt like the billionth time. “I can just use the blankets. That’s fine.”

“I don’t want your duvet,” Regina said calmly. “These blankets are just fine. More than that. They’re excellent. So much better compared to what I used to sleep in. One time I slept under a tree in Jardin des Tuileries. It was summer, but still. My back was a little stiff when I woke up in the morning. And the deer staring me in the face wasn’t exactly a welcome surprise.” She chuckled to herself and shook her head. 

“How old were you then?” Emma asked. 

“Hmm? Oh, it was shortly before I came here, so I must have been around nineteen or so.”

“And you were eighteen when you left Nadir Khan’s house,” Emma remembered. “Right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“So, what did you do in the year between leaving his house and coming here?” Emma asked curiously. 

Regina stiffened slightly and brushed a hand over the cloak laying on the floor. “I was looking for answers.”

“What kind of answers?” Emma asked, but Regina shook her head. 

“That is not a story for tonight, Little Swan. It’s late and you have an early rehearsal tomorrow.”

“When don’t I?” Emma muttered a tad defiantly. She would much rather have heard Regina talk.

Regina chuckled again. Emma noted that her voice sounded a bit hoarse. It actually had all night. How odd. Regina wasn’t getting sick again, was she?

Emma studied Regina’s face. Or what she could see of it, anyway. No, Regina didn’t look sick. Maybe it was just a coincidence or something. 

“Anyway,” Regina clapped her hands together and settled down on the blankets on the floor. “I think its time to settle down for the night, Little Swan.”

Emma knew that she was right. It was late, very late. And she DID have an early rehearsal tomorrow morning. Regina had a point. But Emma wasn’t sure she could sleep. She had just slept for so long. And that foggy spot in her mind was still bothering her. But there wasn’t much she could do about it. She just had to accept it. With a little sigh, Emma crouched in front of the wooden dresser and opened it. Found her white nightgown and a pair of panties. She made sure to roll them into her nightgown to hide them. Childish, and perhaps unnecessary. Regina had laid down on her cloak and blankets with her eyes closed and didn’t seem to pay much attention to Emma, but still, Emma wasn’t taking any ‘chances’. She always felt super awkward about showering whenever Regina was in her room. And even more awkward when Regina was the one doing the showering. 

She slithered past Regina and into the bathroom. She always felt a little awkward, wearing her nightgown in front of Regina. She wished that she’d had a pajamas. Something more neutral rather than a silly white nightgown. But she didn’t have that, so she would have to settle with this. 

She slipped off her cardigan, dress and leggings. Took off her glasses. Stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a moment. Then she slipped off her underwear. Shifted a bit. She felt sort of strange. Couldn’t quite pinpoint the feeling, but there was just something. 

Emma thoughtfully touched her collarbone. Why she couldn’t explain. She didn’t exactly have the habit of touching her collarbones. Something niggled in the back of her mind again, but every time she tried holding on to it, it got away from her. What was it that she was forgetting? Why couldn’t she remember?

Emma sighed and turned her back on her reflection. Then she stepped into the shower and switched it on. Hoped that no one heard the water run and questioned why she was taking a shower at 12 in the morning. She hastily shampooed her hair and scrunched up. Impatiently waited for a moment and then rinsed. Repeated the motion when it was time to condition her hair. She had felt tempted to skip conditioning her hair tonight, but she knew that if she did that, she would wake up with completely frizzy hair. And that was definitely not something she was interested it. 

With her hair taken care of, Emma lingered a little longer under the spray of water. Perhaps she could RINSE this odd feeling away. Not that it distinctly was a bad feeling. It was just.... odd. She hastily soaped up, and when her hand brushed against her breast, she was surprised to notice that it felt a little better than it normally did. Emma was not a complete stranger to touching herself there. She wasn’t a stranger to touching herself in other places either. Not that it was something that happened every night, but once in a while. And the urge had most definitely been more present over the past... 

Well, over the past months, to be honest. Emma knew that it was the most natural thing in the world and that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but she couldn’t help it. The embarrassment overwhelmed her whenever she thought about the reason for the urge she so often felt late at night when her room was cloaked in darkness. Often, she stubbornly ignored the feeling, far too embarrassed to do something about it, but sometimes she gave in and allowed herself to feel whatever she needed to feel. She allowed her mind to be flooded with all sorts of images and scenarios that somehow didn’t variate a lot if she had to be completely honest. Always the mask-wearing woman enticing her with her voice and hands. 

Emma shifted. She definitely had that urge right now. But she couldn’t give into it now! No way! Not when Regina was in the next room. Emma almost angrily rinsed the soap off her body and then switched off the water. She refused to feel like this tonight. Refused to give in to that ridiculous urge now. She just had to pull herself together. She was probably just woozy because she had slept for such a long time and everything.

She stepped out of the shower and found a towel in the little cabinet. Angrily dried herself off. Scrubbed at her skin until it started burning slightly. 

“Ouch!” she muttered to herself. That was what she deserved for being so silly. 

Once sure she was dry, she dumped the towel in the hamper basket along with the dress, cardigan and underwear she had worn today. She reminded herself that she had to bring the clothes down to the laundry room tomorrow. Emma preferred her clothes to be clean as fast as possible. Then she stepped into the panties and hastily pulled them up where they belonged. Slipped the nightgown over her head and smoothened it over her body to make sure it wasn’t crinkling anywhere. She felt like she looked silly. Like someone pretending to be in a fairytale. She was not. She was a seventeen year old girl in a Parisian opera house. And she was far too old to dress like this. She grumbled to herself as she brushed out her hair. It hung wet and limply down her back, but for whatever reason, Emma couldn’t be bothered to tie it back into a braid. She had worn her hair in a braid all day, for gods sake. 

Now she was ready for bed. She slipped her glasses on and looked at herself in the mirror again. With her face washed clean and her cheeks slightly pink from the warm water, she felt like she looked several years younger. She thought about what Regina had said in the boat. ‘You’re not a child’. Had she meant it, or had she just been trying to make a point? 

Emma didn’t know. Another foggy spot in her mind. 

She ran the brush through her hair one more time and then left the bathroom. 

She had expected to find Regina laying on her cloak, under the blankets, pretending to sleep or simply staring at the ceiling, but that wasn’t the scenario she had walked in on. Instead she had walked in on Regina sitting on her heels with her back to the bathroom. She had lifted one hand and was toying with something behind her head. Two almost transparent strings. The strings kept slipping between her fingers, and Emma silently wondered why Regina was not using both her hands to tie the strings. But then she realized that Regina was in fact using her other hand to keep the white half-mask in place on her face, and now Emma knew exactly what she had accidentally walked in on. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Regina quietly muttered to herself. Oblivious to the fact that Emma was present. 

Emma quietly cleared her throat. She couldn’t just stand here and lurk. That wasn’t fair to Regina. 

The Phantom of the Opera stiffened immediately. “Turn around,” she said simply. 

Emma could have done that. It probably would have been easier to do that. But as she watched Regina’s continuous struggle to tie the strings behind her head, she couldn’t help but ask: “do you need some help with that?” 

“No. Turn around,” Regina said again. Now she lifted her other hand to pull the strings tight behind her head. She fiddled with the strings, attempted to tie them behind her head, but ultimately failed. The   
mask landed on the floor with a very soft thud. Immediately, Regina’s hand came flying up to cover the right side of her face. “God damnit!” she exclaimed, but she didn’t sound particularly angry. More... upset. 

Emma took a hesitant step towards her. “Regina-“

“Don’t,” Regina murmured lowly. “Just... don’t.” 

“But I-“

“I’m not saying it for my own sake,” Regina interrupted, voice still slightly thicker than normally. “I’m saying it for yours. Do yourself the favor and turn around. Please.” 

“I’m not going to look at you,” Emma softly assured. “I promise. I just wanna help you. It sort of looked like you were struggling.”

“That’s to put it lightly,” Regina said bitterly. 

Emma sat down behind her. “I can tie it if you hold it,” she offered. “It’s a bit easier with two hands. And you don’t have to be afraid that it’ll...” she stopped talking. 

Regina didn’t say anything either. Emma saw how her shoulders rapidly lifted. The only physical sign that she was feeling stressed.

“I won’t look,” Emma said again. “You have my word, Regina.” maybe it sounded too solemnly. But she meant every word. She was not like Daniela Khan who had pushed to see what was underneath   
Regina’s mask. Emma would lie if she claimed that she was not curious. She was. But the curiosity was easily overshadowed by the concern and care she felt for Regina. She would never violate Regina’s boundaries like that. Not ever. 

Regina still did not say anything. She simply picked up the mask with her free hand and then very quickly pressed it against the right side of her face. She remained still, and Emma took that as a cue. She shuffled forward on her knees, so she was sitting right behind Regina. She didn’t say anything either as she lifted her hands and grabbed onto the strings with her thumbs and index fingers. 

“Just...”

“Huh?” Emma stilled with the strings between her fingers when Regina spoke. “What was that?” she asked softly. 

Regina sighed before finishing the sentence: “just tie it as tightly as you can.”

“Won’t that hurt?” Emma asked. The question just fell out of her before she could stop it, and she immediately feared that she had overstepped a boundary. 

But Regina’s voice was quite calm when she answered the question: “no. To be honest.... I can’t feel much where the mask sits.” 

“Why is that?” Emma asked softly as she began working on the strings again. 

“My facial nerves must be damaged in the right side,” Regina murmured. “The skin is.... fairly numb. I can feel some things, but not a lot. And the skin tingles from time to time. Sensory disturbances, I suppose.” 

“And that doesn’t hurt either?” Emma just had to check. She tried to sound as normal as possible despite being hyper aware that this was the most she had ever shared about her face. 

“No.” Regina scoffed. “The only painful thing about my face is how ugly it looks.”

Emma didn’t know what to say. The most obvious thing in the world would be to tell Regina that she was not ugly. But she knew that Regina would rebuff her if she tried. 

She tightened the strings around Regina’s head and paused for a moment before tying a knot. 

“That’s good,” Regina said. 

“It’s not too tight?” 

“It’s never too tight. The more it looks like it’s been attached onto my face, the happier I will be, Little Swan.” 

The way Regina said it sounded so sad and vulnerable, it brought a lump to Emma’s throat. She pulled herself together and tied the strings into a tight knot at the back of Regina’s head. “There.”

Regina let go of her hair and allowed it to spill down her back and thereby covered the strings. 

Emma shuffled backwards slightly to give Regina some space. And she saw how Regina lifted her hands and brought them up to the mask. She was clearly checking if it was sitting tightly against her face. 

“Did I do it good enough?” Emma asked softly. “I don’t mind doing it again if it’s not-“

“It’s fine,” Regina interrupted, voice hoarse. “It’s.... thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Emma said, utterly surprised. Hearing Regina say thank you was not something she had expected would happen. Ever. 

Regina turned around so they were facing each other. She too was sitting on her heels like Emma. And she was once again wearing the white half-mask. It was sitting snugly on the right side of her face.   
The Phantom brought a long finger up and touched the ‘cheek’ of the mask. “You want to know, don’t you?” she asked quietly. “What’s underneath the mask. Everyone wants to know.” 

Emma shuffled a tad forward. “I don’t want to know anything you’re not ready to tell or show me, Regina.” 

Regina cocked her head in curiosity. “You think I’ll show you?” 

“I don’t know,” Emma said truthfully. “Maybe.” 

Regina looked thoughtfully at a spot above Emma’s head. “Maybe,” she repeated, nodding slightly and running her fingers through her dark hair. “Someday.”

Emma didn’t even think about it. She just followed an instinct as she reached forward and took Regina’s hand in her own. She intertwined their fingers exactly like Regina had done earlier. Then she took Regina’s other hand and did the same. 

Regina raised the eyebrow that was visible. “What are you doing?” 

Yes, what was she doing? That was the question. Emma couldn’t really answer it. Because she wasn’t thinking. She was simply following her instincts and doing what felt right. What those instincts bade her to do. Which was leaning forward so her knees were nearly touching Regina’s. 

Regina didn’t move away. She didn’t pull her hands free either. There was something in the air. A new type of tension. Her gaze flickered and then she was looking Emma in the eyes. She did not smile. 

But there was definitely something in her eyes. Hesitation. A rare display of vulnerability like Emma had seen a moment ago when she helped Regina with the mask. 

Emma willingly met her teacher and mentor’s gaze. Her Angel of Music. The woman she was thinking non-stop about. The woman who had gotten under her skin and had filled her with new emotions that made her feel dizzy. She couldn’t ignore her feelings any longer. She inched closer and closer. Leaned her head forward. Slowly. As to test what would happen. Emma had never kissed anyone before, but she couldn’t imagine anyone but Regina being the one to give her her first kiss. 

Regina who had been sitting completely still, now moved. Was she- Emma could barely breathe- yes, Regina was definitely angling her face and leaning forward the same way Emma had done. They were sitting so close, Emma could feel the little puffs of air Regina made when she exhaled. She could smell her spicy perfume. Could feel the other woman’s dark hair tickling her cheek. God, all she had was to tip her chin up. If she did that, her fate would be sealed. If she did that, this would really happen. She would cross a certain bridge she had never even dared dreaming about crossing. 

Emma very slowly lifted her chin. If Regina wanted to put an end to this, she could. But she didn’t. She didn’t move an inch. She was.... she was waiting. For Emma. 

Emma couldn’t wait any longer. She lifted her chin a bit more. Her lips was now only inches from Regina’s now, and she forgot that she had never kissed anyone before and might be bad at it. She forgot that she was only seventeen while Regina was a ‘proper’ woman. She forgot that all these things should matter, because in a moment she would be kissing Regina, and that was the most important-

Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud!

The moment of tenderness and vulnerability between them disappeared and the spell was broken the moment the sound of the footsteps in the hallway became audible. Regina jerked her head backwards, pulled her hands free so quickly it almost hurt Emma’s fingers and then rose from the floor. In a matter of seconds, she was standing by the door with her ear pressed against it. All signs of vulnerability had been wiped away from her face, and there was only intense concentration left. 

Emma was still sitting on the floor. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably in her chest. The sound of someone skulking around in the hallway was still very much present, but stupidly enough, fear wasn’t the first thing she felt. It was disappointment. Terrible, flat and gut wrenching disappointment. She had literally been only inches from kissing Regina, and now the moment was ruined!

Emma turned her head and looked up at the Phantom. “Regina-“

“Shh,” Regina replied. There was no emotion in her voice. 

Thud, thud, thud! 

The footsteps were clearly retracting, and Emma was optimistic enough to hope that this was simply a coincidence and nothing else. 

But of course it was not. 

The fog had not yet lifted in Emma’s mind when she heard it. A horrible, low whistling. A cheerful little tune that sounded positively eerie this late. 

And she had heard this tune earlier. When Bouquet walked past her in the hallway leading to the canteen. 

Emma’s heart thrummed in her chest. So it was Joseph Bouquet. This proved that her suspicion had been right. Her chest heaved and her breath sped up. She wasn’t quite sure how she managed to get on her feet, but suddenly she was standing next to Regina by the door. Bouquet was still whistling lowly to himself in the hallway. His heavy footsteps almost echoed in Emma’s ears, and she noted that Regina had a hand on the doorknob.

The whistling stopped. So did the footsteps. But instead followed heavy breathing. Emma’s insides twisted. It sounded exactly like a man with labored breathing due excess drinking. The breath caught in her throat and she didn’t know how to manage not to make a sound when the doorknob suddenly was pressed down and jiggled. The quiet, rattling sound seemed very loud and echoed in her ear.

Regina’s arm shot out, and she nudged Emma to stand behind her, pressed up against the wall. Emma saw how the Phantom pressed her shoulder tightly against the door. She was fighting the intruder from the inside. The door was locked, but Emma wasn’t sure how seriously that was to be taken. It wasn’t a very solid door. And besides.... As the janitor, Joseph Bouquet had a master key. It would be the easiest thing in the world for him to unlock Emma’s door. 

Emma’s heart thudded faster and faster and made her dizzy. She had to press a fist against her mouth when thinking about what could happen if Joseph Bouquet managed to get inside her room. Suppose he would be there waiting for her one night when she came back from rehearsals? Thinking about what he would do to her made her feel sick. 

“Get away.....”

Emma nearly jumped at the low, menacing voice. That wasn’t Bouquet. If was Regina. She was speaking directly to Bouquet through the keyhole. Her voice sounded completely different. Low and dark. Very distinctly male. Regina’s voice was pretty low on its own, but this was something completely else. Regina had completely disguised her voice. 

“I advise you to comply,” Regina hissed in that same, low voice that send shivers down Emma’s spine. “The Angel of Music has her under his wing. And the Angel sees, and the Angel knows!” she shoved her shoulder harder against the door. 

There was a moment where the heavy breathing stopped. The doorknob stopped jiggling. Emma was almost scared to breathe. It felt like her muscles were wounded completely tight. She looked at Regina. Her eyes were completely black against the mask. Her teeth was bared. She looked positively terrifying. But somehow, the sight calmed Emma. If anyone came into her room and was met with THAT, she had a feeling that ‘they’ would be getting out of here as fast as their legs could carry them!

The footsteps retracted. A bit quicker than before. Then they disappeared altogether.

Emma’s legs threatened to give in as she stood shaking against the wall. That whistle. That terrible, cheerful little whistle. That had just confirmed her suspicion. 

“You have nothing to fear now, Little Swan,” Regina said. She sounded like herself again. 

“That was...”

“I apologize for having unnerved you, but I’m tired of his games,” Regina said shortly and bared her teeth again. “This ends. Soon.” 

“I’m not unnerved,” Emma croaked. “And it’s... It’s Joseph Bouquet.”

Regina looked at her. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes,” Emma whispered. “I recognized his... his whistling... oh my god!” her legs caved in and she ended up sitting on the floor, shaking from top to toe. “Why is he doing this to me? I’ve done nothing   
wrong! What is it that he want from me?!” she already knew that, and thinking about it made a choked little sob escape her. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop thinking about Joseph Bouquet and his leering eyes as he looked at her. At her body. He was probably imagining what he wanted to do to her-

Long fingers wrapped around her own. Emma’s vision was blurry as she tried her best to meet Regina’s eyes. 

“Listen to me,” Regina said, voice firm but somehow still gentle. “He wants nothing from you, because he’ll never get to you. Not even for a second. He won’t ever get past me. And that’s final.”

“I’m scared,” Emma whispered. Just saying it out loud made her feel weak, but she couldn’t help it. 

“I will protect you,” Regina said firmly. “You have my word, Little Swan. Now, come. Up you go.” she gave Emma’s hand a little tug. 

Emma clumsily got on her feet, and it was like some dam had broken. She flung herself at Regina and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Buried her head in the crook of Regina’s neck, eager to feel something that wasn’t fear. 

Regina patted the back of her head in an almost awkward manner. “I think this should be enough to keep him away for the rest of the night.” 

“Why did you disguise your voice like that?” Emma murmured into the crook of her neck. 

Regina chuckled slightly. “I know his type, Little Swan. A woman telling him to get lost would not mean shit to him. But a man? Now that is something he would respect.”

“But you revealed yourself-“

“He’s trapped by his own stupidity, dear. If he tells anyone about what he heard, he would be asked what he was doing in the girls dormitory at this hour. And what kind of answer would he have for that?   
He’s already partially in trouble for drinking. Believe me, this is not something he’s going to take any further.”

“Oh.” That did made sense. 

“But this is not over,” Regina continued lowly. “I believe I now have the chance to ensnare our ‘clever’ friend.”

Emma lifted her head and looked up at Regina. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll take care of it.” Regina said and peeled Emma’s arms off of her waist. 

“Take care of it how?” Emma asked. She was too focused on getting to the bottom of Regina’s cryptic statement to fully register that Regina had just freed herself from her touch. 

“Trust me,” Regina murmured lowly. 

Touch me... Trust me.... Savor each sensation....Let the dream begin......

Emma gasped when the memories suddenly came rushing back to her, and she stared wildly at Regina, the threat from Joseph Bouquet forgotten in a blink of an eye and replaced with the memories of Regina behind her. Regina singing in her ear. Regina with her arm around her neck. Swaying her back and forward. Making her feel... things. Intense euphoria followed by intense fatigue. She had fainted. In Regina’s arms. She remembered everything now. How she had been completely spellbound by the wonder that was Regina’s voice. “You...” she croaked. “You sang for me tonight!”

Regina seemed taken aback by this and didn’t say anything. 

“You DID!” Emma exclaimed a little too loudly. “How could I ever have forgotten that?!” seriously, this was something she would be cherishing forever! 

“You forgot because I made you forget,” Regina said tonelessly. 

Emma blinked. “Did you... Did you hypnotize me?”

“Yes. It was not the intention. I shouldn’t have.”

“Why not? It was wonderful! I-“

“Yes. That is exactly the problem. ‘It was wonderful’,” Regina bitterly quoted. “I took things too far, and I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What are you talking about?!” Emma exclaimed. “Regina, the way you sang for me, was... was-“

“Little Swan.” Regina interrupted tonelessly. “I bound you with my voice. I took away your ability to make your own decisions. Had you wanted to leave, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I don’t care,” Emma said plainly. “Even if I’ve had the opportunity, I wouldn’t have left. I would have stayed.”

“I know,” Regina said dully. “That’s exactly the problem too. Whatever 'things' I made you feel when I sang. They're not real. You felt that way BECAUSE I sang. Because I hypnotized you.”

Emma shook her head. How dared Regina say that her feelings weren't real? "That is no-"

“What happened last night was a mistake. I never should have hypnotized you. I never should have said yes just because you wanted to try it. I made the same mistake twice, but it will not happen again. And now it’s time for you to get some sleep.” 

“Regina-“

“Go to bed, Little Swan. I’ll stay up and make sure everything happens the right way.”

“But I-“

“Goodnight.”

Arguing with Regina when she was like this was impossible, Emma knew that. Without a word, she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Maybe Regina thought that this was a mistake, but Emma most certainly didn’t! Last night had definitely been one of the best nights of her life, and she would forever cherish the precious memories. Had this been why Regina had been so short with her earlier? Because she was regretting what she had done? 

What was there even to regret? Emma didn’t care if she had been hypnotized. If being hypnotized meant that she once again would be filled with that euphoria she had felt, she was willing to do it again and again. 

She rolled onto her side and stared into the wall. Thought about the almost kiss. If Joseph Bouquet’s eerie footsteps hadn’t interrupted, that kiss would have happened. And just like with being hypnotized, Emma was willing to try it again. She had to..... 

To Be Continued.......


	37. No More Notes, No More Ghost?

The following morning, Regina stayed longer in Emma’s room than she had done before. She hid behind the door when Emma opened it for Lily, and when Emma left to go to breakfast with Lily, she was certain that Regina was still in her room. 

It was hard to concentrate on eating breakfast that morning. The news of what had happened during the choir’s rehearsal the previous day had spread like a wild fire in the opera house, and conspiracy theories and rumors flew around in the canteen. Some of the rumors being that the Phantom of the Opera had indeed been seen on the bridge yesterday. That the Phantom of the Opera wasn’t a human but a monster. All of the theories were mad. And not even one of them came remotely close to the truth. Emma wanted to stand up and yell that Regina was no monster and not out for blood. She wanted to tell everyone the truth. That Regina was doing this to protect her. 

But of course she did not. She couldn’t blow her cover and reveal that she had even the faintest idea about what was going on in the opera house. So she kept her mouth shut and bit the protest back   
when Killian continuously referred to the Phantom of the Opera as ‘he’.   
The rumors kept flying around between the tables until Malena came striding into the canteen and told them to stop. She didn’t want to hear anymore nonsense, she said. 

“The bridge is unstable,” she said testily. “It's an old, creaky bridge which over the years has become unstable and has started tilting. That's why that rat trap fell. That is the most obvious explanation for that. The other one being the possibility that a student has managed to get up on the bridge and decided to play a prank on us. A terrible, ill-chosen prank made by someone with a puerile brain, but nevertheless a prank. Is that understood? We’re currently investigating how a student managed to get up on the bridge. There are no ghosts nor any phantoms. And there will be consequences for anyone suggesting so or spreading rumors. Is THAT understood?”

Everyone nodded mutely. But Lily squeezed Emma’s arm, and Emma lifted her chin once to show her friend that she understood. Because Malena was openly lying to them. What had happened? Yesterday, she had fully believed that the Phantom of the Opera was ‘back’, and today she was hushing up. Why was she hushing up? Had Mr. Gold told her to? Emma wouldn’t find that too surprising. As the owner of the opera house, Mr. Gold was interested in many visitors, great publicity and positive reviews. Not a rumor about a phantom of the opera roaming about the place and spreading terror. Yes. Mr. Gold was probably the one who had told Malena to write this off as a prank. And if you squinted, you COULD believe that the falling rat trap and the note had in fact been a prank. 

But Ruby was not buying it. As soon as Malena had left the canteen, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “A joke?” she almost growled. “Seriously? She’s writing this off as a fucking PRANK?! You gotta be kidding me!”

“We don’t know for sure what it was, Rubes,” Belle said gently. “Maybe it isn’t-“

“Belle.” Ruby interrupted. “Don’t. Just... don’t.” 

Emma kept her head down and said nothing. She had to keep her mouth shut in order for this to work. 

Concentrating about singing had never been harder. Emma literally did not care about rehearsing and singing. The muscles in her neck were cramping as she strained not to glance towards Box Five or the bridge. She couldn’t do that. If she did that, her secret would be revealed. 

But it was painful, not being able to steal a quick glance to see if she could catch a quick glimpse of Regina. They hadn’t even gotten to talk this morning because Emma was in a rush to get ready, and it was too risky for them to have a conversation in the morning. Someone could overhear them. Someone could pick up on the fact that there was someone in Emma’s room. Too risky. 

They hadn’t talked last night either. Regina had basically ordered Emma to go to sleep after the ‘Bouquet-incident’, and Emma had been too shaken to do anything else. The fright had completely exhausted her. Surrendering to sleep had been far too easy, and when she woke up, Emma was mad at herself for having fallen asleep so quickly. She had so wanted to talk to Regina about what had happened last night. What almost had happened. They had nearly kissed each other. And if it hadn’t been for Bouquet’s creepy interruption, Emma definitely WOULD have kissed Regina. No doubt about it. 

And that needed to be addressed. They needed to talk about that. It was important. But before curling up under her blankets last night, Regina hadn’t mentioned it with a word. And this morning she had acted like she always did. Like the almost-kiss hadn’t even happened. And obviously, that worried Emma. Did that mean that Regina hadn’t wanted to be kissed? Would she have pulled back if Bouquet hadn’t made his creepy entrance? 

Emma found that a bit hard to believe. Regina had seemed so open and vulnerable last night. Perhaps Emma was being naïve again, but she hadn’t looked like a woman who was on the verge of pulling away. No. That kiss would have happened if Bouquet hadn’t appeared. If only he hadn’t! 

Emma felt a muscle work in her jaw. It wasn’t fair that he was doing this to her. And it wasn’t fair that he had interrupted them last night. Now her head was full of thoughts about what it would have been   
liked to kiss Regina. How soft her lips would have been. What she would have done. Would she have cupped Emma’s cheeks or simply kept still? It was difficult to say, really. 

But Emma wasn’t in doubt of her own reaction. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to control herself. No. She would have wrapped her arms around Regina and refused to let go. She would have wanted to be as close to her as it was humanly possible. And Joseph Bouquet had taken that opportunity from her. He had robbed her of the chance of kissing Regina. Robbed her of the chance of getting her first kiss ever. 

If Emma hadn’t despised the man before, she certainly did now!

Halfway through their after lunch rehearsal, the reason for Emma’s hate showed up in the auditorium. Bouquet had his toolbox wedged under his right arm, and Emma was certain that he and Malena   
exchanged a glance before Bouquet disappeared up the stairs leading to Box Two. Not Box Five. God forbid it. There was clearly something that needed fixing there as well. 

Lily squeezed Emma’s arm. She too had noticed the glance Bouquet and Malena had exchanged. Emma gave a weak nod in acknowledgment. That was the only thing she dared doing to show that she had seen the same. Malena was in a dreadful mood today. All snappy and irritated. Emma didn’t have to wonder what had happened during her conversation with Mr. Gold. It was obvious that it hadn’t gone as Malena had wanted it to go. Emma was certain that Mr. Gold had to have rebuffed her in some kind of way. Dismissed all talk about The Phantom of the Opera. Emma would have done the same if she was Mr. Gold. If she was the owner of an enormous opera house with hundreds of staff members and students, she too would deny all talk about a mysterious phantom roaming about the place. From his point of view, Malena’s claim about a ‘phantom of the opera’ sounded like bogus, so yes, Emma fully understood why he wasn’t taking it seriously. But she also felt guilty because Malena was absolutely right in her suspicion. The Phantom of the Opera WAS back.

Lily squeezed her arm again, but this time, Emma didn’t dare react to it. She was scared that Malena would see it and tell her off. Never had it been more important for Emma to pretend to be what she had been when she first came here. A backrow choir singer who did not know anything. Luckily, she had gotten pretty good at pretending. And lying. God, had she ever gotten good at lying! Scarily good. 

When she still lived back in Maine, she couldn’t even start telling a lie without blushing and stuttering and avoid all eye contact. Her inability to lie had gotten her in some trouble once or twice. At some point, one of her friends from her old school had asked her to lie for her because she wanted to skip the last period and ‘go hang out instead’, and Emma couldn’t. When the teacher had asked her where her friend had gone, Emma had done such a bad job at lying that the teacher of course had ended up coaxing the truth out of her. And furthermore, she had asked Emma if the friend had told her to lie for her. At that point, Emma had felt so pressured, she had just said ‘yes’ immediately. 

The next day, her friend was in big trouble with the teacher for having skipped class, and Emma was in big trouble with her friend for having failed to lie on her behalf. The girl had ‘dumped’ Emma as a friend afterwards, and Emma had gradually realized that the girl hadn’t been that good of a friend, really. And she had childishly decided that she never would lie for anyone ever again. 

Ha. Just ha. Emma almost snorted to herself. If ones humor was dark enough, it was possible to see the amusing in it. 

Nothing happened during that day’s rehearsals. Bouquet worked in silence, and there was also silence from the bridge. Malena seemed particularly relieved about that even though she continued to be snappy and impatient during the rehearsal. 

Ruby sang her solo piece, but Emma could sense that her heart wasn’t in it. She wasn’t playing with the words or the melody like she normally did. She just sang. Flatly and disinterested and mechanical. 

And Emma wasn’t the only one who noticed that. “Miss Lucas,” Malena said tightly. “Is there a particular reason why you’re not making an effort today?” 

“No, Malena,” Ruby replied just as tightly. “I guess I’m just... not really in the mood.”

“’Not really in the mood’,” Malena repeated and frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Miss Lucas, need I remind you that you’re the star of this performance. The choir is excellent, but you’re our front figure. The one who carries all the responsibility for how the concert in two months turns out. I’m afraid you cannot afford to not be in the mood. Too much is at stake.” 

“In light of what happened yesterday, it’s honestly pretty hard to concentrate, Malena,” Ruby said, and Emma almost gasped at her boldness. 

Malena didn’t give a sharp reply. She just sighed deeply. Her posture became a bit less impatient. “I’ve already said it once,” she said slowly. “But perhaps it is no harm saying it again in a more official way now that you’re all gathered here.” she brushed imaginary dust off of her black blazer. “As you all know, a rat trap fell from the bridge yesterday.” she started walking back and forward and her high heels clicked. “I can imagine that the sound must have scared quite a few of you. And the fact that I dismissed the lesson immediately afterwards, must have confused you.”  
“Not much to be confused about,” Ruby muttered. 

“Miss Lucas,” Malena said, less sternly now. “I am the one talking right now. Please do not interrupt me.” she crossed her arms over her chest again. “I feared for your safety. That’s the reason why I dismissed the lesson. The bridge is not as stable as it used to be. Over the years, the old woodwork has gotten worn out. Things can fall from it. Things like a rat trap. It’s inconvenient, but it’s something that can be fixed. Our janitor-“ she nodded towards Box Two where Bouquet was still working. “-is already on the case, so all of you can feel quite safe.”

“And are we supposed to feel ‘quite safe’ when the chandelier comes apart and crushes one of us?” Ruby asked flatly. 

“That’s enough, miss Lucas!” Malena snapped. “I’ve explained what’s going on. I’ve given you the facts. Your own beliefs is something that I cannot change, but I would strongly advise that all of you-“ her gaze lingered on Killian for a moment. “Keep your theories to yourself. There’s absolutely no evidence suggesting that something else should be going on here in the opera house. It’s a ghost story created by someone with too much time to spare, and if I catch anyone of you...” she glanced sternly at every member of the choir. “Spewing theories or making up stories about some ‘phantom of the opera’, there WILL be consequences. This is not a circus or a campfire. It’s an opera house. And I’d like to think that all of us are far too busy to make up silly stories. Am I making myself clear?” 

A chorus of ‘yes, Malena’ followed.

“Excellent,” their teacher said and turned her attention back to Ruby. “Now that we’re all on the same page... Miss Lucas, from the beginning of the aria, please.” 

Ruby sang without any protests or questions, but Emma had several ones that she couldn’t ask. What on earth had Mr. Gold said to Malena to make her lie so convincingly? Emma understood why the owner of the opera Garnier didn’t want to cause a panic in the choir, but this seemed a little extreme. Could it be that something else was going on? Maybe a secret investigation. That wasn’t too farfetched, was it? No, it wasn’t impossible that Malena was hushing up because a discreet search of the opera house was going on. Maybe Malena had shown the note to Mr. Gold. Maybe he had commanded a search of the opera house? This opera house was his lifework after all, and everyone knew that he cared about this place like it was his child. Of course he had every interest in making sure that everything was as it should be. And that note Regina had written yesterday, clearly showed that everything was not as it should be. At least from the teachers and Mr. Gold’s point of view. He cared about the students living in the opera house. Of course he’d want to be rid of a supposed threat. Of course he’d arrange a search for an unwelcome visitor. A search for supposed Phantom of the Opera. If that really was the case, Emma knew she had to warn Regina. She had to be careful with sneaking around. Because Emma was sure that there was something going on that the teachers didn’t want the students to know. Malena was not the type of woman who let herself be rebuffed. Not even by Mr. Gold. There had to be some sort of agreement between the two of them. And Malena’s role in that agreement was to lie through her teeth while Mr. Gold discreetly arranged for the opera house to be searched. 

Emma’s heart thrummed uncomfortably. This game was getting more and more dangerous, and she had a dreadful feeling that things were about to explode. There was a sort of tension in the air. 

She glanced discreetly at Ruby who was singing. At least she hadn’t seen the note in the rat trap. Had Ruby seen that note, she wouldn’t have searching for the truth. 

And the truth was non-optional. The truth had to stay buried no matter what. 

Emma discreetly rubbed her arms. The feeling was back. That feeling that everything was going to explode....

Later that evening found Emma in her room where she was waiting for Regina. Her backpack was packed with food. Two bread rolls. Two shiny red apples. Two chicken drumsticks wrapped in tissues. Four chocolate cookies. And her bottle of water. She didn’t want Regina to starve tonight. And she supposed that she was looking for some way to say thank you to Regina for scaring Joseph Bouquet away last night. It had been an enormous risk to run, but Regina had done it anyway. She had partially exposed herself for Emma’s sake. She didn’t have to do that, but she had done so anyway. She had protected Emma. And perhaps enjoyed scaring Bouquet a little, but nevertheless, Emma was extremely grateful. Bouquet’s interruption had been a most unwelcome one, but in some backwards way, he couldn’t have chosen a better time. Meaning, that he had chosen to ‘strike’ when Regina had been with her. Emma still didn’t want to think about what could potentially have happened had Regina not been in her room. The thought was too grim. There was not a sliver of doubt in her mind that Bouquet had been drunk last night when he was in the hallway. The heavy breathing and the horrible whistling had certainly suggested so. Drunkenness often lead to recklessness, and there was a chance that he wouldn’t even have cared about the other choir members in the dormitory. Perhaps he would have been too focused on getting to her. 

Emma shook her head slightly. It was terribly difficult for her NOT to keep imagining Bouquet bursting into her room, putting a hand over her mouth, and then forcing her away to some unknown destination only he knew of. Maybe that was exactly what he would have done, had Regina not been in her room. 

Emma was so, so grateful. Regina would be protecting her. She didn’t doubt that for a moment. What was it that Regina had growled last night? Oh yes. ‘The Angel of Music has her under his wing. And the Angel sees and the Angel knows!’. An obvious warning. And Bouquet hadn’t even glanced in her direction today. Officially, he had of course been busy working in the auditorium, but unofficially? He hadn’t dared looking at her because of Regina’s warning. 

Maybe this would be the end of it. Perhaps Bouquet had learned his lesson. Maybe the warning had been enough. Emma hoped so. Because that meant that Regina didn’t have to put herself at risk of being seen or heard anymore. If Bouquet stopped, Regina could stop. And that would mean that the search of the opera house Emma suspected was going on, could be stopped too. If the mysterious things stopped happening, there wouldn’t be a reason to keep looking for anything. The note Regina had written and left in the rat-trap could be dismissed as a tasteless joke, and everything would go back to normal. Regina wouldn’t be at risk anymore, Emma wouldn’t be a target. And more importantly, things would settle down enough for Emma to be able to spend normal time with Regina. And hopefully give that kiss one more try. 

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she jumped slightly when the mirror was being pushed aside and Regina appeared in the opening. She had her arms full of fabric, and Emma was immediately intrigued, but before she could get the chance to inquire about it, Regina said: “come along. Let’s get going.”

Emma rose from the bed and walked over to Regina. She was already walking back through the passage, and Emma was a bit disappointed over the lack of handholding, but she quickly reminded herself that Regina had her hands full. She couldn’t very well hold her hand when she was carrying all that fabric, could she? 

“You had a good rehearsal today.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes,” Emma confirmed anyway. “It was... pretty quiet.”

“And your teacher is hushing up,” Regina half-chuckled. “Excellent.”

“I actually think that there might be something more going on behind the scenes,” Emma replied, once again jogging to keep up with Regina. But today it was most likely because she had her arms full of fabric.

“Elaborate,” Regina said simply. 

“I think Malena is hushing up because there’s a search going on in the opera house,” Emma quickly explained. “It has to be something like that. Otherwise she wouldn’t have ‘changed her mind’ about your   
existence so quickly, right?”

“Hmm.” Regina chuckled unexpectedly. “Little Swan, if you weren’t a singer, you should join the police.”

“Thanks.” Emma chose to take is a compliment. Perhaps all the Agatha Christie books she had read was finally coming in handy. “So you have to be careful,” she continued, still jogging slightly to keep up.   
“I know that they don’t know about the lair, but they know of all the rumors about-“ now Emma was the one hushing up. She had come very close to saying the name ‘Christine’, and Regina didn’t really like when her name was said so casually. 

“I know about the rumors,” Regina said shortly. 

“Sorry,” Emma said quietly. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know,” Regina interrupted, tone warmer now. “You don’t have to apologize. Your concern is... sweet. But unnecessary. I can take care of myself. I know which precautions to take.”

“I know you do.”

“You weren’t bothered today, were you?” Regina asked, changing the subject.

“No.”

“Hmm. That’s good I suppose.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “’Suppose’?”

“I’d lie if I claimed that I am not looking for an excuse to give Bouquet a piece of my mind,” Regina said simply. 

“Oh.”

“But that is not a talk for today,” Regina decided. “Do you think you could give me a hand with some of this? I’d hate for it to end up on the ground.”

“Sure!” Emma said immediately. 

“Highly appreciated.” Regina handed her a blue fabric that was as soft as whipped cream and as light as a feather. “If you carry this... and... this,” she handed Emma an armful of forest green velvet fabric. Emma nearly drowned in the material. There had to be at least twenty meter fabric. 

“Where did you get all of this?” Emma asked, struggling a bit to hold onto the ‘bundle’ of velvet. 

“The costume room. In the ‘discarded’ trash bag. I don’t know what you have against velvet, but the more for me, I suppose.”

“Don’t you ever miss normal clothes?” Emma asked spontaneously.

“Define ‘normal’ clothes.”

“Well, you know... Jeans. T-shirts. I dunno...” Emma trailed off and felt silly. She couldn’t really picture Regina in casual clothing like jeans and t-shirt.

“I’ve never worn such clothes in my life,” Regina scoffed. “And to be perfectly honest, I detest jeans. And t-shirts. Terrible attire.”

Emma tried not to snicker at the way Regina was huffing. “So you prefer dresses.”

“Well, if you had been forced to wear too small boy clothes because your mother was stuck in a dream and a dress made of a scraps, you too would appreciate the quality of fine clothes.” 

Emma recoiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Regina said regally. “And to answer your question: no. I do not miss wearing ‘normal’ clothing, because I have never in my life worn normal clothes. When I lived in my mother’s house, I wore whatever her mercy bestowed upon me. When I lived on the street and stole to survive, I wore the first and the best thing I came across. And when I lived in the caravan with...” a muscle in her jaw tightened, and she didn’t say Sébastien’s name. “..the others, I wore whatever my weeks allowance could afford. I suppose what could be defined as the most ‘normal’ clothes I’ve ever worn was the clothes I wore when I lived in Nadir Khan’s house and posed as Erik. Nadir gave me his old clothes. Dress pants and velvet waistcoats. Ties. I did make a very convincing young man if I do say so myself. Too convincing, unfortunately. Either way, that was what started my fondness for velvet, and when I came here, I was pleased to discover that there was plenty of old velvet dresses laying around.” She inhaled before continuing: “One could argue that Erik’s clothes is the most normal clothes I’ve ever worn, but that is not how I see it. I wasn’t dressing as myself when I was Erik. I was playing a role. So, however ‘unnormal’ these dresses look... They are extremely normal to me. Because they match... Who I am.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Emma said softly. 

“It does,” Regina agreed. 

They had made it to the lair, and Emma was happy to find the floor dry. It did make it a little easier to move around. 

“There we are,” Regina said lightly. “Just leave the fabric on the floor, please.”

Emma did as she was asked and dumped the velvet and feather light material on the dry floor. Then she looked around in the familiar place. All the candles were lit and flickered as always. Sheets of half-composed music laying on the keyboard. Everything looked exactly as it always did. 

Except for...

Emma tilted her head in curiosity when she spotted the mannequin standing in the center of the lair. It looked like one of those shop window dummies, and she briefly wondered where in the opera house Regina had acquired it. But the question was easily overshadowed by a new wave of curiosity when she saw the dress the mannequin was ‘wearing’. 

The color of the dress was tricky to pinpoint. Emma suspected that it looked pink in one light whilst more peach in another. But the material looked quite light (Emma suspected that it was silk), although there clearly was a lot more to this dress. There was also some kind of contrast brocade going on. Emma could not stop staring at the dress. It was beautiful. Far more exquisite and detailed than any costume she had seen here in the opera house. It was even prettier than the heavy, colorful skirt Ruby would be wearing on the night of the big concert when she took the stage as the solo artist. Emma thought to herself that Ruby’s heavy skirt had nothing at all on this dress.

The first thing she thought of when she looked at this dress was Spanish folklore. It had three-quarter long sleeves which fell straight to the elbows where they attached to a gathered ruffle cuff that was shorter in the front and longer in the back. The edges of the sleeves were scalloped and embroidered. Underneath was another ruffle of gathered black lace. On the outside, where the cuff was sewn to the sleeve, there was delicate black floral trim. At the front of the sleeves there was exquisite colorful brocade ribbons attached in the form of a bow. The bows were beautifully detailed. Emma could see red, green, blue and white flowers. The sleeves were beautifully detailed. Emma had never seen such a dress before. It had quite a low neckline with pompoms and other frills. Incredibly detailed. Nothing was left to coincidence on this dress.

The bodice had a decorated, triangular panel, Emma vaguely had a feeling was referred to as a ‘stomacher’. At least that was what her mom once had called it. There were red, green, and white flowers on the outer section of the stomacher while the center panel was black with large red, silver and lavender flowers. There was faded red piping around the edges and red crisscross lacing down the middle. 

Emma could also see tiny, delicate silvery buttons. Clearly designed to look invisible on the dress. The stomacher did look a bit odd on the dress. Almost like it was part of a different costume, but Emma still liked it. It gave the dress character. And it matched the details on the sleeves. The skirt was wide, beautifully layered and quite dramatic, and Emma realized that the skirts ruffles matched the ones on the sleeves. She could count at least four layers of black tulle peeking out underneath each ruffle. Everything looked so....poofy. Except for the front of the skirt. There, the material split to reveal a panel of golden and black lace. The bottom of the skirt was scalloped as well. 

Draped over the back of the mannequin was a large yet light shawl embroidered with floral motifs and fringes. It matched the dress to a T, and Emma couldn’t stop herself for a moment longer. She walked over to the mannequin and reached out to touch the dress. 

“Don’t touch that dress, Little Swan.” 

Emma instantly dropped her hand and looked back at Regina who was standing behind her and eying the dress. “Sorry. It’s just so... beautiful.”

“Yes. It is,” Regina agreed simply. 

“Where did you find this?” Emma was most interested in knowing which production this magnificent dress had ever featured in. And more importantly, why nobody seemed to miss it. 

“I didn’t.”

“Huh?” 

“I made it,” Regina said quietly. 

Emma stared at the Phantom. “Are you... Are you serious?! You.. You MADE this?”

“Yes. I’m pretty talented with a needle.”

Emma scoffed. “This is more than ‘pretty talented’, Regina.”

“So I’m a lot talented,” Regina corrected and half-chuckled. “And I also happen to have a lot of time on my hands. I can’t sing all the time. Sometimes I have to fill my day with something else, and so, sowing it was.”

Emma believed her. Of course she did. But to imagine that Regina had hand-sewn this amazing dress was incredible. “It’s beautiful,” she said again.

“Yes, it’s one of the better ones,” Regina agreed. 

“But... Isn’t it a bit too small for you, though?” Emma hesitantly asked and looked at the dress again. It did appear to be a bit short. Definitely too short on Regina’s tall frame. 

“It’s not my dress,” Regina murmured. “I made it for.... Christine. We were singing a piece I had composed, and she wanted to look the part. What was it she called her? Oh yes, Aminta. She liked that name   
for whatever reason.” 

Regina had made this dress for Christine. It was difficult not to get overwhelmed by sadness. It must had taken Regina ages to make this dress. And knowing that Christine would never wear this beautiful dress again was heartbreaking. 

“But anyway, that’s all in the past now,” Regina said, adopting a light tone now as she walked over to the mannequin. She walked behind it and started to carefully unbutton the lavish dress. Emma watched how gentle she was being as she peeled the dress off of the mannequin and carried it into the room behind the curtain. She carried it as though it was made of glass. Brushed her fingers over the material. 

After a moment she returned with a little bowl full of safety pins. She was being both quick and effective as she grabbed the silky red fabric and draped it around the mannequin in a tube shape. After having attached the material properly with the safety pins, she took a step back and admired her work. 

“Hmm,” she said, tapping a finger against her mask. “Yes, I suppose that could work.”

“What are you making?” Emma asked curiously. 

Instead of answering, Regina went back to the mannequin and started adjusting the neckline. She tugged and shaped the fabric until it looked like a sweetheart neckline. “Yes, that’s better,” she said, definitely more to herself than to Emma. “It just needs a bit more swish in the back. Perhaps a small train or something...” she started roaming through the ‘puddle’ of fabric until she found more of the red material. She unfolded it and pinned it to the back of the dress with a safety pin. “Oh yes. Perfect.”

Emma was fascinated. Regina had just created a dress on the mannequin. 

“Now, if I could just find some beading...” Regina continued her musings. “Perhaps there’ll be some left in the costume room.” she finally turned to Emma. “What do you think, Little Swan? Is this acceptable for the masquerade ball?” 

“Oh,” Emma smiled. “It’s for the ball! It’s beautiful!” 

“Yes, it’ll do,” Regina agreed. She raised one visible eyebrow at Emma. “Is there a particular reason you’re not singing yet?” 

“Uhh...” Emma’s mind blue screened for a moment as she thought about the last time Regina sang. “I don’t think I feel like singing tonight, actually.”

“That’s the wrong attitude,” Regina warned. But she did not push Emma. Instead she continued her dress-musings, and while Emma definitely found that to be nice and interesting, she did wish that she and Regina could talk about that almost-kiss. 

But Regina didn’t seem like she was particularly interested in talking about the almost-kiss. In fact she acted like it hadn’t even happened. Or like she had forgotten. But surely, that couldn’t be the case, could it? It had been such a poignant moment, and if Bouquet hadn’t shown up when he did, they WOULD have ended up kissing each other, Emma was sure of that. Regina couldn’t just have forgotten about it so quickly. Emma refused to believe that. 

But she didn’t know how to approach the subject when Regina was so engaged with creating her dress. The timing seemed wrong. She didn’t want to pull Regina out of her dress-thoughts when she seemed so excited and upbeat about it. It didn’t seem right. So Emma didn’t say anything. She decided to wait. She decided that she did not want to interrupt Regina when she was smiling more than she normally did. 

“Creating,” Regina said spontaneously as she fussed with the train she had attached to the back of the dress. “It’s so satisfying. Whether it’s music or clothes.” 

“How did you learn to do this?” Emma asked curiously. 

“Well...” Regina brushed dust away from the red fabric on the mannequin. “Growing up, I was alone for many hours during the day. I only had the television to entertain me, and I had an eye for detail. So every time I saw a particular dress on the screen, I made sure to memorize it as best as I could. Often I made a sketch. At the end, I had seventeen full sketchbooks.”

“That’s... a lot of sketchbooks,” Emma said quietly. 

“It is,” Regina agreed. “Maybe I’ll get through all of them. Someday.”

Emma felt another pang of sadness. Here Regina was, in a secret lair hidden under the opera house when she really should be out in the world, creating beautiful music and stunning dresses. So many gifts. All that talent in a world that had done nothing but rejecting her and casting her out. She looked at Regina as she eagerly moved around the mannequin and made changes to her future dress. And much against her own words, Emma asked: “what would you like me to sing tonight?” 

Regina paused with a safety pin between her fingers. Seemed to consider it for a moment. Then she started to sing: “’ Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi

Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do.’” She glanced at Emma and prompted: “now you..”

“Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do,’” Emma softly sang and immediately noticed that Regina was looking away again. Was this a part of Regina’s vow not to hypnotize her?

“Move the ‘do’,” Regina instructed and sang the ‘do re mi’ in a lower range. Still without looking at Emma. 

Emma too moved it to a lower range, and soon they were singing together: “’oh, you are music! Beautiful music! And you are light to me. Oh, you are music! Sunbeams of music! And you are light to me....’”

“Very good,” Regina praised when they had finished singing. 

Emma smiled at the praise but was still bold enough to ask: “will you not look at me while you song?” 

“Absolutely not,” Regina said simply. 

“Why not? It’s just-“ 

“I am not going to hypnotize you again, Little Swan.” 

“I’m not asking you to do that,” Emma protested, even though that was EXACTLY what she was asking Regina to do. In her own convoluted way. 

“But nevertheless, that’s exactly what’s going to happen if I look at you while I sing,” Regina said flatly. “I cannot always help it, Little Swan.” 

“I didn’t mind it,” Emma said. Again, boldly. 

“I’m sure you didn’t. I’m aware what it can... do to a person. I’ve heard it described.” Regina’s tone was harder now, and her movements ditto as she adjusted the fabric on the mannequin again. “I refuse to take away your free will again.”

“Even if you hadn’t hypnotized me, I would still have stayed rooted to the spot,” Emma vowed. “Because I WANTED to.”

“You’re asking the same things of me as someone else already has, Little Swan,” Regina said tiredly. “And my answer to both of us is the same.”

“Christine wanted you to-“

“Yes. And I told her no then. Just as I’m telling you no now.”

“What was Christine like?” Emma asked softly.

“She was... music.” Regina replied and stopped fiddling with the dress. “She was good and kind. Too kind. And proud. If only she had asked for my help, then...” she sighed, shook her head. She threaded needle and shoved it into the red fabric with force. “She certainly did not deserve what happened to her, and I curse myself every day for not being there for her when she needed me! And I curse the person responsible for her death even more. More than anything, I want justice for her...." she trailed off and sighed again. "I do not wish to talk about Christine right now. It angers me. The injustice of it all. I’m sure you understand that, Little Swan.” 

Emma nodded. She respected that. She thought about Joseph Bouquet. He had been harassing Christine too. And Christine was gone. Killed. By Bouquet? Regina thought so. And he certainly had been harassing her. Like he was harassing Emma. She swallowed, and she wished more than ever that she could have taken her knowledge to one of the teachers or even Mr. Gold. But she couldn’t because Regina was a part of it. And would they even believe her? Bouquet had a rumor, but he was also one of Mr. Gold’s friends. And Emma didn’t want to be known as the girl who cried wolf even though Bouquet was in fact harassing her. If only she and Regina could catch him in the act and intimidate him into confessing to one of the teachers or even Mr. Gold himself. 

Maybe they could. Maybe it was only a matter of time before Bouquet revealed himself....

The next two weeks were quiet. Emma continued her lessons. The official AND unofficial ones. She sang with the choir and sang for Regina. 

Regina came to her room every night and slept on the floor, under the blankets. But she didn’t need to. There were no more footsteps. Bouquet didn’t even look her way even though he was working in the auditorium still. These days, he was working on the bridge to ‘secure’ it. Maybe it did need securing. Maybe that was only a partial lie on Malena’s behalf. But she had gradually loosened up over the past two weeks. For each day where they heard no scuffling and no notes presented themselves, she looked and acted more and more relaxed. 

Emma felt relaxed too. And relieved. Regina’s little warning had clearly scared Bouquet off for good. No more footsteps. No more whistling. No more worries. She wasn’t sure how long Regina would continue to sleep in her room, but she dreaded the day that Regina’s ‘surveillance’ stopped. She had gotten so used to having Regina sleeping in her room, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to sleep alone. 

They still hadn’t gotten to talk about the almost-kiss. None of the subjects had really invited to it. And Regina didn’t hold her hand anymore either. Or brush her fingertips against her face. 

Emma was most unhappy about that. And she planned on confronting Regina with it. She wanted to know why. Why she suddenly was pulling away from her like this? If Emma had done something wrong, Regina would have told her so, right? They were communicating more than they had in the past. And they were friends. Friends told each other things. Emma wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew that she didn’t want to play this game. She wanted Regina to stop pretending that they hadn’t almost kissed each other that night in her room. And more than ever, she wanted to tell Regina about her feelings. She wanted to confess. Lay it all out. Cards on the table. She could do that. She could be brave. She had to. If she didn’t tell Regina the truth, she would simply explode from holding it in. She couldn’t stand to keep looking at Regina and settling for thinking about how in love she was with her. She wanted to say it out loud. She, Emma Swan, was in love with the Phantom of the Opera. 

No. That wasn’t right. She was in love with REGINA. Because Regina was no phantom or ghost. She was a person. A complete, whole person who created beautiful music and wonderful dresses and happened to be the most amazing person Emma had never encountered. Beautiful and strong and stunning. 

She had to tell Regina. And if Regina’s reaction was to kick her out of the lair, then so be it. Then at least Emma had tried, right? 

There was only one thing worse than not telling. And that was not knowing at all. Emma was done pretending. There would never be a perfect time to come clean about her feelings, so why not simply do it?

But first she had to finish this lesson. And she was very much impatient. Could barely keep still as she stood in the backrow and waited for the lesson to wrap up already. While Malena instructed Ruby and the small ensemble making it out for the orchestra, Emma thought about exactly what she was going to say to Regina. She had to prepare some kind of speech and then gradually easing into the subject, right? She couldn’t just blurt it out even though that was the most tempting thing to do. She had to be a bit delicate about it. She didn’t want to spook Regina. 

Next to her, Lily groaned and interrupted her thoughts. “God, how long are we supposed to do this?” she muttered. “I swear, it was dinner time like... twenty minutes ago.”

“Lilith,” Malena said before Emma could mutter something back. “Quiet please. This is a rehearsal. Monsieur Reyer, are we ready?” 

“Whenever you are, Madame Drake,” the little man confirmed. 

“Excellent. And, one, two, three...”

Emma bit back a groan when the two violinists and three cellists started playing while Ruby sang. This had to be at least time number hundred they were rehearsing this, and honestly, Emma was getting a bit tired of it. She much rather wanted to be free to go to Regina. And. Tell. Her. The. Truth. About her feelings once and for all. 

How should she start? ‘Regina, I...’ ‘Regina, lately I’ve...’ ‘Regina, I am so in love with you, I can’t..’

Emma almost snorted. No, she couldn’t say that. Regina would probably call her dramatic and give her one of her stares. 

But how did one make this kind of speech? How did one confess that they had fallen in love with their teacher who also just happened to be a woman much older than herself? And the Phantom of the Opera who lived in an underground lair.....

Emma sighed quietly. You couldn’t exactly decide who you fell in love with, could you? 

Lily gave her a slight nudge and teased: “you’re dreaming, Em.”

Emma flushed a little. That was true. She was. 

“About the masquerade ball?” Lily guessed. “Or maybe something else?” there was a hint of something in her voice. Curiosity. And perhaps a touch of jealousy.

Emma was immediately concerned. Had Lily noticed? Was her feelings for Regina something that could be seen in her eyes? Or was she just being paranoid?

“It’s just a long lesson,” she muttered vaguely. 

“Yeah,” Killian Jones mingled in their conversation. “Lily, can’t you tell your mom to chill out or something?”

“Ha,” Lily said quietly and scoffed. “Nothing good has ever come from telling mum to chill.”

“Quiet!” Malena barked. “This is a rehearsal, Lilith! If you don’t feel professional enough to continue, you are more than welcome to leave!”

“I DO feel professional enough to continue!” Lily half-snapped and rolled her eyes. “Jeez.”

Killian was bold enough to snicker, and for a moment, Malena looked like she was on the verge of kicking all of them out. But then she surprised them all by chuckling too. “Brats,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. 

“Mum!” Lily protested, but laughed. “You can’t call us that! We’re your students!”

“And I’M the teacher,” Mal said simply. “Meaning that I’m entitled to call you whatever I please....”

Everyone laughed at that. Except Emma. She was far too busy wishing herself away from the auditorium and back to the lair. God, if only this stupid lesson would end! It didn’t make sense that all of them had to be here! The main focus was on Ruby anyway, so why was it that all of them had to be here? It was so ridiculous! And Emma was so nervous! What if Regina actually got angry with her when she confessed? What if Emma ended up ruining everything? Loosening Regina because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut?

Emma closed her eyes for a moment. That... was just a risk she had to take. She had already made her decision. No more stalling. No more hiding. She couldn’t keep the truth in for a moment longer. She would just have to jump headfirst into this and be brave. Like she had been brave when she first walked through the mirror. When she came back to the lair to apologize to Regina after having read Christine’s diary. When she had inched closer and closer to Regina and almost kissed her. It was that kind of bravery Emma had to summon now when she was on the brink of telling the Phantom of the Opera about the feelings she harbored for her. The feelings she’d harbored for her in at least two months now. Possibly much longer. God, how long had she even been in love with Regina? Was it possible that she had been in love with Regina from the moment she met her for the first time? Had the fainting been about something that wasn’t fear? Emma didn’t know. But she did know that the night where   
Regina had sung for her and touched her, only had cemented her feelings. If she had been in doubt about her feelings before, she hadn’t been after that night. 

She shivered. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel Regina’s long fingers on her collarbone. Could hear Regina’s soft voice in her ear. ‘Touch me, trust me... Savor each sensation...’

Emma swallowed thickly. Maybe now wasn’t the proper time to think about that. But when was the right time, then? She had ended up dreaming about it last night, and when morning came, Regina had dryly asked if she’d had a nightmare. Obviously, Emma had gone beet red and muttered a faint ‘no’ before escaping to the bathroom.

Creak.

Emma stopped thinking about ‘forbidden’ things and glanced up towards the bridge. Maybe Malena was right. Maybe it was a creaky old thing. Obviously, Malena was still hushing up, but she had a point about the bridge creaking and ‘complaining’ all the time. 

Creak-creak-creak-creak-creak!

Now everyone was looking towards the bridge, and Emma saw the look in their eyes. After two weeks of complete silence, this was an unwelcome surprise. But this couldn’t be Regina, Emma knew that for sure. 

“Bouquet!” Malena irritated called towards the bridge. “What’s going on up there? I’m aware that Mr. Gold has asked you to fix the bridge, but I must insist that you do it a bit more quietly! We are still rehearsing!” 

Bouquet didn’t answer. Maybe he was irritated that Malena had scolded him. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! CREAK!

Everyone looked at one another, and that slightly panicked whisper erupted again like it had the other times where they had heard that creaking. 

CREAK! CREAK! CREAK! CREAK!

Now Emma was starting to wonder too. What the hell was Bouquet even DOING up there? Had he had one too many before going up there or something? Or was he playing a prank on them? If that was the case, it wasn’t a very good prank. She wasn’t scared, but she could see that Anna and a couple of the other younger choir-members were. 

CREAK! CREAK! 

“Bouquet!” Malena barked. “I asked you to keep it down, and I expect you to-“

She never got the chance to finish the sentence. The words were drowned when the choir screamed and disbanded exactly like they had done the last time something came falling from the bridge. 

But this time it was not a rat trap. It was something far heavier. Something that landed on the floor with a sickening crunching sound. 

There was a moment of silence. Then everyone started screaming. Malena did nothing to make them stop. And Emma felt a wave of sickness hit her when she looked at Joseph Bouquet’s body lying on the floor. His eyes were wide open and staring blankly at the ceiling. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that he was dead. The shock hit her like a sucker punch to the stomach, and she could barely focus on what was wrapped around his neck. 

A piece of rope......

To Be Continued.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can reveal that I listened to the piece called 'Justice' from the 2017 movie Murder on the Orient Express soundtrack. I do recommend that you listen to it. It's really good :D
> 
> I wonder how Bouquet managed to fall in such a clumsy way.....


	38. Then My World Was Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains description of violence! Reader discretion is advised!

”Oh my god! Lily cried. “He’s dead! Mum, he’s dead!”

Chaos erupted, and everyone started yelling and piling up to get to the door first. None of them wanted to be left in the auditorium with Bouquet’s dead body. 

Only Emma stood motionless and unable to move. Stared blankly at the gruesome sight in front of her. She had never seen a dead body before, and it was like her brain couldn’t fully register what was in front of her. She knew that Bouquet was dead. Anyone could see that. But the fact that this dead body in front of her used to be Joseph Bouquet didn’t click with her at all. She couldn’t comprehend that this lifeless body had been a living, breathing human being this morning. It was like the light had been switched out behind his dead, staring blue eyes. There were tiny, red spots in the white of his eyes, and his cheeks were blotchy and red. His body was laying almost spread-eagle on the floor and there was something red near his temple. 

Emma wished that she was capable of looking away. She wished that she had been able to move. Flee towards the door with her fellow choir-members. 

“Quiet! QUIET!” Malena suddenly shouted, and Emma flinched. 

Everyone stopped yelling. Stopped moving. Ruby was as white as a sheet, Lily’s eyes were completely wide, Anna was crying, and Belle had an arm around the younger girl’s shoulder as to comfort her. 

Killian too looked like she couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. That Bouquet was laying dead on the floor. And he wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the choir looked horrified and confused. How could this have happened? How could a perfectly normal choir rehearsal have turned into this horrid nightmare?

“Now,” Malena said with a voice that trembled. She too had turned as white as a sheet. “All of you will leave the auditorium quietly. No panic. You will all return to the common room at your dormitory where you will wait until I come back and give you further information.” She moved so she was standing in front of Bouquet’s body with her front to the choir. “Go. All of you. Do not look at him. Just leave as quickly and quietly as possible.” 

Everyone once again moved towards the door. No one was screaming or crying this time. But this shocked silence was almost worse than the screaming and crying had been. 

Emma found that she finally was able to move as well. And she nearly stumbled as she went towards the door along with the others. She still struggled to wrap her head around what had just happened. 

Joseph Bouquet was dead. Exactly how, she didn’t know, but he was definitely dead. Here one moment and gone the next. She felt sick. His blank, dead stare had burned itself into her brain, and she doubted that she ever would be able to forget what she had seen here tonight. A man had died. Right now it didn’t matter what kind of man. It just mattered that he was dead......

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

Emma cringed and almost felt like pressing her hands tightly against her ears. Lily had repeated the phrase several times since they had arrived in the common room. The entire choir was sitting scattered in various armchairs and couches. Anna was still crying, and Elsa was trying to console her. Ruby hadn’t said a word since Bouquet’s body had fallen from the bridge. She was still deathly pale and her stare just as blank as Bouquet’s had been. Killian for once was completely quiet. No theories. No ghost stories. He was just sitting still with his hands folded under his chin. He looked several years older all the sudden. 

Next to him, Tink, the little blonde girl were crying quietly while Ariel did her best to comfort her. But nothing she whispered to Tink worked. Of course not. Everyone had gotten the shock of a lifetime. 

Emma’s mind was swimming. What had happened? How could Bouquet have fallen? Had the bridge really been that unstable? And what about the rope wrapped around his neck? How had that gotten there? He must have gotten tangled up by accident and then lost his balance somehow. Emma felt nauseous and the unwelcome memory of Clayton falling to his death and ending up being hanged in Tarzan popped up in her mind. God, this was horrifying! Absolutely horrifying. She didn’t have any words. 

“I want to go home,” Anna whispered. “I want to call mom and dad!”

“Shh, it’ll be okay, Anna,” Elsa soothed. “You can call them as soon as Malena has been here, okay? She told us to wait here.” 

“Oh my god,” Lily croaked. “Oh my god, oh my god!” 

“Lily, please!” Belle said quietly. “Can’t you just... give it a rest? I know you’re shocked. We all are. But this isn’t helping!”

Emma spontaneously reached out and grasped Lily’s hand. Gave it a reassuring squeeze. It didn’t take long before she felt Lily squeeze back. She stopped chanting ‘oh my god’, which was most likely her way to cope with the situation, and Belle flashed Emma a grateful look. 

Ruby still hadn’t uttered a single word. She just sat quietly next to Belle in the couch with wide, staring eyes. 

And Emma felt like she was sitting on needles. It had been at least an hour since they had heard Malena’s high heels clack-clack-clack up the stairs towards Mr. Gold’s office. He and Malena had spoken quietly on the way back to the auditorium, but even though everyone had hushed up in an attempt to hear just a snippet of the conversation, it had been impossible. Mr. Gold and Malena had passed the common room too quickly. Mr. Gold’s cane had clacked against the floor, and Emma had almost become worried about him falling. A completely nonsensical reaction, but she was in shock too. Everyone was. 

She kept seeing Joseph Bouquet falling. It had happened in the blink of an eye. One moment he had been working up on the bridge, and the next he was tumbling from it. It had to have happened quickly.   
So quickly, he didn’t get the chance to exclaim or anything. A ‘freak accident’ you would call it. 

Emma cringed. She couldn’t imagine it. What it was like to quietly mind your own business and do your work and then suddenly loosing balance and falling to your death. And that rope around his neck.   
That had perhaps been the most scary thing of all. How it had been sitting around his neck almost like a noose. Terrifying. Just... terrifying. 

She noticed that Lily’s hand was trembling in her own, and Emma was quick to gave Lily’s hand another squeeze. To soothe her. To naively tell her that everything would be okay. It WOULD. At some point. One day, they would be able to forget that they had seen Joseph Bouquet’s dead body. 

Yes, Bouquet was dead. And being confronted with his dead body, his staring, empty gaze and wound at the temple had been positively horrifying. Emma wished that there had been some kind of way for her to wash out the memory of ever seeing Bouquet’s body. Death was not something Emma had ever wanted to be confronted with. She knew that it was a part of life, but not like this. Not displayed in this horrible, brutal fashion. She had much preferred to think about it as something that happened when you were really old and peacefully asleep in your bed. 

She was being naïve again. She knew she was. But she couldn’t help it. What had happened tonight had shaken her to the core, and she desperately wished that there had been a way for her to hold on to her view of death. But now the image she’d had in her head had been shattered to pieces, and Emma didn’t know what to do with herself. She couldn’t seek shelter in one of her books this time. The image of Bouquet’s body and blankly staring eyes would keep haunting her. 

Lily squeezed her hand. Or maybe Emma squeezed hers. She wasn’t completely sure, but it was nice to know that she wasn’t alone. She had a feeling that Lily was thinking roughly the same as she was. All of them were marked by this. All of them were thinking about the horrible experience it had been to see Joseph Bouquet fall to his death from the bridge. 

Emma shifted on the couch. She felt nauseous. Cold. She sort of just wanted to curl up in bed. Sleep this whole terrible event away. What would happen now? What did this mean for the school? For the students? Emma’s heart started beating harshly in her chest. God, how fast things could change! This morning, the main thing on her mind had been how to tell Regina the truth about her feelings, and now she was reeling from the fact that a man had died. She closed her eyes and immediately, she saw Joseph Bouquet fall from the bridge. 

Several members of the choir jumped when the door to the common room was opened and Malena, Mr. Gold, Mme. Carlotta, and a red-headed man Emma didn’t recognize stepped inside. All the adults looked incredibly serious. Malena’s mouth was a thin line, Mme. Carlotta looked very pale, the red-headed man blinked rapidly through his round glasses.

“Can I have your attention, please?” Mr. Gold said as he leaned heavily on his cane. 

Everyone looked at him. Of course. His voice radiated authority.

“Thank you,” he said, exhaling as he adjusted slightly, still leaning on his cane. “Mrs. Drake has just informed me of what happened during your rehearsal tonight. Firstly, I would like you all to know how incredibly sad I am that something so tragic has occurred. And even more so that all of you were there to witness it. Archibald Hopper-“ he nodded towards the red-headed man in the waistcoat standing next to him. “Our affiliated therapist will be available throughout the rest of the next and the next week if any of you need to talk to him about what happened.”

“My door is always open,” Archibald Hopper chirped in. “So if any of you have the urge to talk through the events, all you have to do is ask.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hopper,” Mr. Gold said. “Do any of you have any questions for me?” 

“I do,” Killian said, sticking his hand in the air. 

“Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“What happened?” Killian asked quietly. “How could he fall like that?”

Muttering erupted in the choir. Everyone glanced at one another. Killian had just asked the question all of them had wanted to ask. Exactly what had happened. And how. 

“Quiet,” Malena said strictly. 

“We are currently investigating the exact reason for Monsieur Bouquet’s tragic fall,” Mr. Gold replied. “But seeing that the bridge has already proven to be unsteady-“

Emma knew he was talking about the falling rat trap. The one that had not fallen by accident. Was Mr. Gold and the other teachers still investigating, or had that been dropped when nothing had happened for two weeks?

“-I think it is very safe to assume that what happened tonight was a tragic accident,” Mr. Gold continued. “The bridge had become very unstable over time, and unfortunately, Monsieur Bouquet was not wearing the required safety harness. Thereby not saying that what happened can be pinned on him, of course it cannot, but there is a chance that it could have been avoided had there been more than one man on the bridge.”

“And what about the rope around his neck?” Ruby asked slightly aggressive and without sticking her hand in the air. 

“Miss Lucas!” Malena hissed. 

“No, it’s quite alright, Mrs. Drake,” Mr. Gold said mildly and looked at Ruby. “Miss Lucas. Monsieur Bouquet was as mentioned working on the bridge. Exactly how the rope ended up around his neck, I   
cannot answer, but my educated guess is that he was in the process of securing himself with said rope when he slipped and fell. A tragic accident. A horrible, meaningless accident, and I truly am incredibly sorry that all of you witnessed this. Mrs. Drake?” 

“Yes,” Malena took a step forward. “All lessons will be dismissed until the day after tomorrow so we can get to the bottom in exactly how the accident could happen and how to prevent tragic things like   
this happening in the future. Do you have anything further to add, Mr. Gold?” 

“Nothing besides reminding you that doctor Hopper’s door will be open day and night for those who needs it. Furthermore, it is my duty to inform you that your parents will be contacted and informed about what happened here tonight. That’ll be all. You are dismissed and free to spend your time however you want. But I do suggest you spend it with one another and not alone. Thank you for your time.” 

With that he turned around and left the common room with his cane clacking against the floor. 

Mme. Carlotta quickly followed him out of the door, but Malena and Doctor Archibald Hopper remained standing in the common room. Malena looked at everyone there. “Can I escort anyone to Doctor Hopper’s office?” 

Anna Frost immediately stood from her chair and walked over to her. 

“Of course, miss Frost,” Malena said kindly, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Would anyone of you like to join miss Frost?”

That prompted Elsa to walk over to her sister. Most likely to support her. And after a moment, Ariel and Tink and a couple of the younger choir-members joined them. 

Emma remained sitting, though. She couldn’t bear talking to a therapist about this. Not right now. Her head was spinning. Her parents would be informed. They would freak out. Emma was sure of that.   
Maybe they would demand that she came home. Or maybe they would even show up here in Paris to bring her back to Storybrooke. 

Emma didn’t know how, but she had to somehow convince her parents that she was okay. That she didn’t want to go home. And that they didn’t have to come to Paris. That would only disrupt everything.

Malena left along with Anna and her sister and a tail of younger choir members. The common room fell silent. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room as everyone sat and tried to still wrap their heads around what had happened tonight. It felt like Emma’s head was full of fog. She couldn’t fully focus on anything. Couldn’t string any words together. 

“’A tragic accident’,” Ruby quoted, making Emma jump a little in her seat. “They’re claiming that this was an accident. ANOTHER accident.” 

“Ruby,” Belle said softly. “This isn’t helping anything.”

But Emma was all ears now. Exactly WHAT was Ruby implying? 

“I don’t care whether it’s helping anything or not,” Ruby snapped. “The teachers are idiots! Mr. Gold’s an idiot! He’s prepared to chalk this up to an accident when there’s obviously something else going on around here!”

“What other things would that be?” Emma asked before she could stop herself. 

Ruby looked at her. Her voice was a bit softer when she continued: “first the creaking due to ‘the building settling in’. Then the rat trap falling because ‘the bridge has gotten unsteady over the years’, and now Bouquet falling to his death WITH a rope around his neck due to some freak accident. I mean, come on. If it walks like a duck...”

Emma played dumb. “So what exactly are you saying?” 

Ruby shrugged. “What I’ve been saying the whole time, Em. That someone is causing these things to happen.”

“Ruby,” Belle said again. “Please don’t do this now. There’s been enough frights tonight.”

“It’s just a story,” Emma said and tried to sound as innocent and confused as possible. “You heard what Malena said. It’s just a stupid ghost story.”

“Yeah. I heard that,” Ruby nodded. “I just don’t buy it. At all. I think that the teachers and Mr. Gold is trying to cover up the whole thing because they don’t want to cause a panic.” 

Lily gasped slightly. “W-what?! Are you saying that-“

“Ruby. Stop it,” Belle interrupted, now openly pleading with her girlfriend. “Please just think about where you are for a second, okay? In a room full of-“

“You don’t believe me!” Ruby said slightly bitterly. “I got that a while ago, Belle. And I respect that. I do. But don’t ask me to close my eyes when the answer is literally staring me in the face!”

“What answer?” Belle asked, now a tad exasperated. “Have you ever actually SEEN this ‘Phantom of the Opera’, Ruby?” 

“No, but-“

“Have anyone else?” 

Ruby opened her mouth to answer, but Belle continued before she could: “anyone who is present with us today?” 

“No,” Ruby said bitterly. 

“Exactly,” Belle said gently. “There is no evidence, Rubes. I’m sorry. I know you want there to be a different kind of answer to all of this. And to what happened to-“ she shook her head slightly, didn’t finish the sentence. “But there isn’t, okay? No one has ever seen this ‘Phantom of the Opera’.”

Emma tried not to squirm in her chair. 

“And it’s hard to prove anything when you don’t have a solid evidence, Rubes.” She gave Ruby’s hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, but you have to accept that it was an accident. All of it.” 

Ruby brushed her hand off and leapt from the couch she had been sitting in. “But maybe I don’t want to do that,” she said quietly. “Maybe I’m sick of seeing everything being brushed off as ‘tragic accidents’ all the time. Maybe I want to figure out the truth!” She turned and walked towards the door. 

“Ruby!” Belle called. 

“I’m going to bed,” Ruby said shortly. “Goodnight.”

And with that, she left the common room and slammed the door shut behind her. In a manner of seconds, Belle too had leapt from her seat. “Ruby!” she called as she quickly followed her girlfriend out of the common room. “Ruby, wait!”

“Jesus Christ,” Lily muttered and turned to Emma. “What is even going ON?”

Emma just shook her head. She definitely had not seen Ruby’s outburst coming, but she definitely didn’t believe that there could be some truth in what Ruby was saying. Regina could NOT be involved in this, Emma refused to believe that. Joseph Bouquet was a freak accident and nothing more. Just that. 

And yet... 

Ruby’s words had somehow planted a tiny sprout of doubt in her mind. It was curious that Joseph Bouquet, the man who had been harassing Emma had suddenly fallen from the bridge where Regina normally stood. 

No! 

Emma immediately felt ashamed of herself. How could she even CONSIDER this? How could she entertain the possibility that Regina had anything to do with this? She hadn’t! It couldn’t be. Absolutely not. 

Regina hadn’t creaked around on the bridge for two weeks. Why would she start tonight? Why would she do anything when Joseph Bouquet hadn’t attempted to do anything for two weeks straight? It wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever. Of course Regina was not guilty. Of course Regina had absolutely nothing to do with this. She refused to nourish the sprout of doubt any further. But she did have to alert Regina, though. Just in case Ruby decided to go poking around on her own or something like that. And generally, Emma just had to talk to Regina about what had happened. Maybe Regina had been in Box Five. Maybe she had actually seen what had happened. 

Emma got up from the couch and gave an apology. She wanted to call her parents before Malena did. She wanted to tell them about what had happened herself. 

And she did exactly that when she returned to her room. She called her parents, and once they were past the initial greetings and questions about how she was doing, Emma told them what had happened today. That Joseph Bouquet had died in an accident in which he fell off the bridge. She didn’t mention anything about the rope around his neck. She figured that the story was already scary enough as it was. 

“Oh my god!” her mom exclaimed. “Honey, are you alright?! Did this happen while you were there?!”

“Me and the rest of the choir,” Emma confirmed. “It was pretty scary, but I’m okay. At least I think I am. I think I’m still struggling to wrap my head around it, to be honest.” 

“Do you want us to come to Paris?” her dad asked. “Just say the word and we’ll be there, sweetie!”

Yes, Emma didn’t doubt that for a moment. She knew that her parents would show up immediately if she asked them to. And had this been a few months ago, she definitely would have said. Having her parents close by would have been her top priority, but now? Not so much. In fact, the further away her parents was from the Opera Garnier and everything that was going on, the happier Emma would be.   
Her parents coming to Paris would be like having two completely different worlds colliding. Or two completely different lives. Her old one back in Maine where she had been the shy girl who preferred singing and books over human interacting. And her new life here in Paris where she actively was a part of the choir. And crazily in love with an older woman whose existence anyone did not know about. 

Least of all her parents. She could not tell her parents about Regina. Not ever.

“Honey? Do you want us to come to Paris?” her dad repeated, and Emma quickly snapped out of it. 

“No,” she said slowly. “No, I’m okay. Really, I am. I think I just need to get some sleep. And I might go and see the school therapist tomorrow. Just to talk through the experience.” where was this even coming from? She had absolutely no intention of seeing Archibald Hopper tomorrow. She had gotten scarily good at lying over the past few months. It was actually frightening. 

“That sounds very sensible, sweetie,” her mom praised. “I’m proud of you for handling this in such a mature way.”

“Thanks, mom,” Emma said and felt worse and worse by the second. She was not handling this in a mature way. She was shamelessly lying to her parents who so willingly believed her. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come to Paris?” her dad asked, still not entirely convinced. “You know you just have to say the word.”

“I know, dad. But I’m okay. I promise. I’m just a bit tired,” Emma said as she walked back and forward in her room, glancing at the mirror now and then. It wouldn’t be long before Regina came and picked her up so they could walk back to the lair together. Emma wasn’t quite sure how Regina managed to be, but she was always pretty punctual. Showing up around the same time every time. That hadn’t changed over the past two weeks even though the handholding and the face-touching had. There hadn’t been any of that at all, and Emma was sad about that. The almost-kiss had made things a bit awkward, she supposed. Maybe Regina really was waiting for her to initiate something again. Maybe she wasn’t certain whether Emma had meant that kiss or not. Emma so wanted to show Regina that she had meant it. Really, really meant it!

She switched on auto pilot as she talked to her parents. Dutifully answered their questions about what would happen now. They wanted to know if the lessons were cancelled. Emma told them that the lessons had been suspended for the rest of the day and tomorrow. Then they asked about the concert. What would happen to that. Emma couldn’t imagine Mr. Gold would cancel the concert, so she told them that she counted on the concert being held as planned. To her surprise, she felt a twinge of annoyance when they asked her about whether she had eaten and gotten enough fluid today. Even though she knew their concern came from a good place, she couldn’t help but feel like they were talking to her like she was a child. Like she was the same girl who had left Maine six months ago. She was not.   
God, she was not! She could barely recognize herself when she looked at her face in the mirror. 

“I know, mom,” she replied. “I’ll remember that.” She glanced towards the mirror again. Where was Regina? Why hadn’t she shown up yet? She always came right around this time. Surely, she wouldn’t be waiting behind the mirror while Emma spoke to her parents. That hadn’t stopped her before. Regina had before been present in Emma’s room whenever she was speaking to her parents. And she always commented on the conversation afterwards. One of the things she had told Emma was that her voice changed whenever she spoke to her parents. According to Regina, Emma’s voice became slightly more high pitched and ‘girlish’ when she was speaking to her parents. Emma had never thought about that, but she was more than willing to believe Regina. And now when she was speaking to her parents, she could actually hear it. She did in fact adapt her voice the littlest bit. It became lighter and airier. Strange. And even more strange was it that she hadn’t picked up on it before Regina pointed it out. Regina always saw everything. She was so observant. 

And she was also so very late tonight. As her mom filled her in on life in Storybrooke, Emma was really starting to wonder. Why wasn’t Regina showing up like she always did? 

When she finally was able to wrap the conversation with her parents after having assured them that she was absolutely fine, one whole hour had passed. 

One whole hour and still no sign of Regina. 

This was weird, Emma thought to herself. Regina ALWAYS showed up. They always walked to the lair together. Had something happened? Maybe Regina had gotten sick again. Or maybe she found that it was too risky to come here with everything that had happened. 

But Emma felt differently. Everybody was too busy finding out more about Bouquet’s accident. No one would notice if Regina came to her room. And Emma really needed to talk to Regina. She had to know whether Regina had seen Bouquet’s accident from Box Five. Maybe she could shed some light over how he had managed to fall like that. 

Emma gave it five more minutes, and when Regina still hadn’t shown up, she took matters into her own hand and went to the mirror. Pushed at the glass until it slid to the side. Then she walked through it and carefully closed it behind her. 

The passage was dark as always. And cold. Emma tugged at the cardigan to pull it tighter around herself. She was freezing more than usually. It had to be the shock, she supposed. She had rounded the first of many corners when she realized that she wasn’t bringing Regina anything tonight. No food. No beverage. No nothing. She hoped that Regina wouldn’t be too cross about that. She hoped that Regina would recognize this as being a bit of a special situation. Emma really needed to talk through the experience with Regina. Regina was very good at listening. Just that. She didn’t necessarily tried to find solutions to all Emma’s problems, and sometimes that wasn’t necessary either. Sometimes it was enough to be heard. Like Regina heard her. 

A skittering on the floor made Emma look down, and she made a face when she was confronted with the rat sniffing at her white ballerina shoes. She hastily move her feet away from the rat and said: “go away! Go away!”

The rat seemed to look up at her, and then it skittered away in the opposite direction. Emma shivered a bit. It was the tail. She absolutely hated the long, naked tail rats had. But at least she hadn’t cried out in fear this time. That was something. A small victory compared to how she had reacted to rats the first time she had met one down here. Perhaps it had even been the same. Regina had once dryly referred to the rat as ‘Gus-Gus’ and had warned Emma not to scare him. Otherwise there would be consequences, she had mock threatened. Regina could be rather funny sometimes. When she wanted to be. She did in fact have a sense of humor, and Emma had many times laughed at some of the things Regina had said. 

And Regina had looked rather satisfied with herself. 

But laughing was probably the last thing on Emma’s mind when she arrived at the lair. Something was off, she could sense that right away. The first clue being that all the candles had been blown out.   
Meaning that the lair was even dimmer than usually and smelled slightly of smoke. 

The second clue was that the beautiful red dress Regina had been in the midst of creating, had been taken off the mannequin, and the mannequin was now standing empty in the middle of the lair. Emma frowned slightly as she scanned the lair inch by inch. What was going on? Why did it look so abandoned all the sudden?

“Hello?” she called. “Regina? Where are you?” 

There was no answer. 

The floor in the lair was dry tonight, so it was no problem for Emma to walk around and search every nook and cranny of the lair. Regina wasn’t by the piano or sitting half-hidden in one of the corners like she sometimes did whenever she was writing. The last place Emma needed to check was the room behind the curtain. The room Emma had now slept in twice. Her footsteps echoed slightly as she crossed the floor and walked over to the room. She pulled the curtain aside and stepped in. The candles had been blown out in there too, and the room was even more dimmed than the rest of the lair was. 

But Emma could still see the figure sitting leaned back against the wall in her black dress. “Regina,” she said relieved over having found her mentor. “There you are.” 

Regina didn’t react to it at all, and Emma frowned again as she walked over to Regina and crouched down next to her. Was she asleep? It looked like it. Her head was tipped back. Her eyes were closed, and between her hands she was holding a red scarf. Emma recognized it as being the scarf Christine Daaé once had gifted Regina with. “Regina?” she gently asked once more and reached out so she could lightly touch Regina’s hand. 

That had Regina’s head jerking up and flinching. She moved her hand away and then opened her eyes. Looked at Emma. “Oh.” 

“Hello,” Emma said softly. “Did I wake you?” 

“No. What do you want? I don’t recall coming to your room to fetch you,” Regina observed and shifted so she was sitting more properly leaned against the wall. 

“I know, I just... needed to talk, I guess,” Emma said lightly and sat down next to Regina. “Where’s your dress for the masquerade ball? Did you finish it?” 

“No.” 

“Then why did you take it off the mannequin?” Emma asked and tilted her head slightly. 

Regina merely shrugged. 

“And why have all the candles been blown out?” Emma continued. She had never seen the lair so dark as it was tonight. 

“I did not feel like lightening them.” 

Regina’s voice was weird, Emma thought. She sounded oddly resigned. Emotionless. This was unusual. “What’s wrong?” Emma asked softly. 

“Nothing,” Regina said, but it sounded like a dismiss. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about? Not the state of the lair, I’m sure.”

Emma blinked slightly. She found Regina’s behavior to be a bit odd. It had been a long time since she last acted so dismissive. But she figured it would be better to first say what she wanted to say and then ask Regina about it later. “Joseph Bouquet is dead,” she said quietly. 

“Yes.”

The short answer took Emma by surprise. “Did you... did you see it happen?”

“Yes.” 

Oh, so Regina had in fact been in Box Five. How odd. Normally, Emma knew for sure whether she was there or not, but tonight Regina had been more than extremely quiet. “How could he fall like that?” she mused out loud. 

Regina didn’t answer that question. Instead she rose from her spot on the floor and left the little room behind the curtain. Emma was quick to stand from the floor and follow her. When she emerged from behind the curtain, Regina was standing in the middle of the lair with her back to Emma and the red scarf now draped around her neck. “Well, he is gone now,” she said tonelessly. 

“Yeah,” Emma said. “He is. The lessons has been suspended tomorrow so they can find out how it happened. Whether it was because of the bridge or something. Did you see if he stepped on a loose   
floorboard before he fell?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay.” Emma frowned. Regina was being incredibly short with her tonight, and she was starting to feel that maybe all her questions were annoying her. She walked over to Regina. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Emma said softly and tried her best to get eye contact with Regina. 

But Regina continued to stare at the wall. 

“Do you want me to sing?” Emma asked. She wasn’t sure how well she could sing tonight given the shock and everything, but her singing usually made Regina feel better. 

“No,” Regina said tonelessly. “I do not want you to sing.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Now Emma was really starting to get worried about her mentor. She carefully reached out and almost shyly touched the back of Regina’s hand.

Regina didn’t flinch or brush her off. She didn’t do anything. She just stood there and stared at nothing.

Emma took Regina’s hand more properly. Interlaced their fingers like Regina had done a million times. She wished that she had been bold enough to touch Regina’s cheek too, but she wasn’t sure whether she could muster up the courage to do so. Instead she settled for squeezing Regina’s hand very, very gently. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly. She could sense there was something. There had to be.   
Otherwise Regina wouldn’t act like this. 

“I told you. It’s nothing,” Regina said flatly. 

Emma shook her head. “I don’t think that’s completely true,” she gently argued with her mentor. “There is definitely something. And you can tell me, you know. You can tell me anything.”

Regina’s dark gaze finally landed on her. For the first time tonight, she actually looked at Emma. 

“Hi,” Emma said and tried to chuckle, but the laughter got stuck in her throat. Now wasn’t the time for laughing. Not when Regina looked like this. So disheartened. “Why are you sad?” Emma whispered, squeezing Regina’s hand softly once more. 

“I am not sad, Little Swan.” Regina replied. “I am resigned. That is a completely different thing.”

“I don’t understand,” Emma said simply. “Are you mad at me for coming here? I know I should have waited for you to come and get me, but I really needed to see you. And I got worried about you. I was   
worried that you had gotten sick again or something like that.”

“You don’t have to be worried about me, Little Swan.” 

Now Emma did chuckle slightly. “I don’t think anything can prevent me from being that, Regina. I can’t help it. And I can tell that something is bothering you tonight, so won’t you please just tell me what it is?” 

“And then you’ll magically make it better?” Regina asked calmly. 

“If I can,” Emma said willingly and dropped Regina’s left hand. “I’d do... anything.” She hadn’t meant to say the last word. It just slipped out of her mouth. 

“I’m aware,” Regina sighed. “Trust me, I know how willing you are.” 

“Is that wrong?” Emma murmured as she inched closer to Regina. She hesitantly lifted her hand and reached up like she had done that night where Regina sang for her. She gently placed her palm on the side of Regina’s face that wasn’t clad in a mask, and her breath hitched because Regina’s skin was so warm and soft. Would her lips be as soft, Emma wondered. Before she knew of it, she was standing on her tippy toes to be tall enough to reach Regina’s lips. Her other hand released Regina’s and crawled up to rest on the other side of Regina’s face. The mask-clad one. This was it. Now she at last would be kissing Regina for the first time. And in some way it would make all the more sense that the kiss should happen right here in Regina’s lair where nobody could disturb them. It was just the two of them. 

Her and Regina. Finally kissing each other. God, Emma wanted it so bad. And Regina hadn’t moved an inch. If she didn’t want this, she would have moved away. Emma’s heart thudded in her chest. She and Regina were on the same page. They wanted the same thing. It didn’t matter that she was just seventeen and that Regina was a ‘proper’ woman. Their differences didn’t mean as much. There were more things bringing them together rather than separating them. And you didn’t decide who you fell in love with, did you? 

Emma closed her eyes, leaned closer and closer. Her lips parted slightly on their own accord. She could feel Regina’s hot breath on her face. Could feel the locks of dark hair tickling her cheek. Could smell the spicy perfume she knew Regina took great pride in protecting. In a moment she would know how soft Regina’s lips were against her own. She would know how it would feel to kiss Regina for the very first time, and...

“Emma,” Regina said slightly hoarsely, and the rare use of her first name had Emma opening her eyes and moving her head backwards slightly. 

Regina gently moved Emma’s hands away from her face, and then she put her own hands on Emma’s cheeks. She gently cupped them and let her long fingers rest there. Looked her deeply in the eyes. Brown boring into green orbs. 

Emma smiled because she thought that she was about to be kissed for the very first time by the woman she so adored. And because Regina clearly wanted to be one to initiate this. And that was completely fine with her. 

But instead Regina shook her head very lightly. “I cannot give you what you seek,” she quietly murmured. Then she released Emma’s face and turned around. 

Emma felt an enormous lump form in her throat, but she still forced herself to speak: “I am not seeking after anything.”

Regina did not turn around when she said: “so when you almost kissed me two weeks ago in your room, it was just to have a bit of fun?”

“I- no!” Emma spluttered. “I’d never-”

”Exactly,” Regina softly interrupted. ”You’re seeking after something. But I have nothing to give you.” 

Emma felt her world shatter around her, but still, she kept talking: “You have everything to give me.”

“You may think that now.” Regina turned around again and looked at her. “Your feelings might be deep now. But you are young. When you grow older, you’ll realize that what you thought you wanted once, isn’t what you want any longer.”

“How can you say that?” Emma whispered. “How can you possibly know what I will and will not feel?” 

Regina said nothing. 

“It’s not for you to decide,” Emma said, footsteps echoing as she walked over to Regina. “You can’t claim to know how I feel. And it’s not for you to decide whether my feelings are real or not. They are!”

“They are right now,” Regina corrected. 

“And they’ll continue to be!” Emma protested. Her throat felt dry and eyes misty. “But if you don’t want me...” 

“Want you,” Regina said dully. “Don’t talk like it has ever been an option, miss Swan. There is nothing for me to ‘want’.” 

Emma recoiled. “Then I’m s-sorry. I only thought that you and I.... B-but I can see that I got it wrong.”

Regina sighed. “The problem is not YOU, Little Swan. I am!” 

“Why?” Emma asked simply. 

“Why?” Regina repeated, eyes flashing now, and disbelief written all over her face. 

“Yes, why,” Emma said and wondered how she managed to sound so calm. “Why are you the problem?”

“I am the problem,” Regina said, voice low now. “Because I am what I am. I am WHO I am. Some ‘angel’ in hell. A twisted creature who killed a man before you were even born!” 

“It was an accident!” Emma said firmly. “You were just a child, you weren’t thinking-“

“Little Swan,” Regina interrupted and started laughing. But it was not a very pleasant laughter. “This is exactly the problem. You are good. Genuinely, unapologetically good. The goodness is seeping out of you every time you open your mouth. You are.. so pure. You see the world as a beautiful place, because that’s just how you are. It was goodness who made you come back to the lair with food. Goodness and compassion.” She chuckled darkly. “The compassion radiates from you every time you make excuses for me.” 

“I am not making any excuses!” Emma insisted. “I’m just telling the truth! What happened to that man who tried to harm you was an accident. The same thing goes for Daniela Khan! You didn’t mean to make her fall! It happened too quickly for you to do anything about it! You would have helped her if you could, I know you would have.” She drew in a breath and grasped Regina’s hand tightly. She had to make her understand. “You are not a twisted creature or an angel from hell. You’ve been nothing but good to me for a very, very long time, and I don’t believe that you ever would be capable of hurting-

“I killed him.”

Those three words sucked the oxygen out of Emma’s lungs, and she blinked at Regina as she asked: “w-what?” 

“Bouquet. I killed him,” Regina said plainly and wiggled her hand in an attempt to pull it free of Emma’s grasp. 

Emma let her do it, and when her hand was no longer holding on to Regina’s, it simply fell limply down her side. She looked up at her mentor and Angel of Music. Regina’s face was blank. A smooth mask. No emotions. No kindness. Nothing. 

“No,” Emma said slowly. “No, I don’t believe that. You’re only saying this to push me away-“

“I saw him on the bridge. I crept up behind him,” Regina mercilessly interrupted her. “I wrapped the rope around his neck.... And I choked him. I kept tightening and tightening the rope around his neck. He didn't even struggle that much. He never even saw me coming.”

“No!” Emma said again. “You’re lying!”

“I can assure you, I am not,” Regina said calmly.

She was telling the truth. Emma could hear it in her voice. Her throat tightened, her stomach churned. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Didn’t want it to be true. 

“He wasn’t supposed to fall from the bridge, though,” Regina continued, voice still flat and face blank. “That WAS in fact an accident.”

“W-why?” Emma whispered and felt something hot sting in her eyes. “Why would y-you do something like this?!”

“Because this is who I am,” Regina replied. “A killer.”

“You are not! Stop it! This is not who you-“ 

“YES, it is!” Regina snapped. “You cannot keep denying it, Little Swan! You can’t keep being so naïve! You’re so desperate to see only one part of me. Regina. But that is not who I am, Little Swan. I am also The Phantom of the Opera. That is the thing I’ve been for the longest, and that doesn’t simply go away because of food delivered to my lair or my hand being held by someone! I cannot be ‘fixed’ or saved or redeemed.” She gave Emma a poignant look. “You care for Regina, I’m aware of that. But what about the rest of me, hmm? What about the Phantom of the Opera? We are not two different people, Little Swan. We’re one and the same. Regina is the Phantom of the Opera. And the Phantom of the Opera is Regina. There is no fence or border between the two’s.”

“I know there isn’t! But-“

“Things aren’t so black and white, Little Swan,” Regina interrupted. “I cannot give you what you seek. Or be the person you want me to be. I am NOT some Angel or protector, and I am certainly not naïve enough to believe the bad guy will stop his harassment just because I make a few threats through a keyhole! Did you think he would get so scared he’d pack his belongings and scurry off? Or did you think that he’d simply stop and suddenly become a better man? Just because he had stopped for two weeks? No, Little Swan. He would not. A man like him would never have stopped. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hand and do what you have to do in order to bring justice!”

Emma recoiled as though she had been slapped across the face. “Is that why you d-did it?” she croaked. “To stop him from-“

“Stop it!” Regina snapped. “Stop trying to make me look valiant when I am not! I just told you, I am NOT a protector! And I’ve also told you that I wasn’t keeping an eye on Bouquet solely for your sake!”

“Then WHY?!” Emma yelped. “Why did you do something like this?! HOW could you do something like this?!”

“He killed Christine!” Regina yelled, and her voice boomed through the lair, bounced off the walls and had Emma flinching as though she had just been struck. “A good, kind, innocent girl and he killed her! He actively choose to take her life. So I actively chose to take his. And I feel no remorse what so ever! Nothing!” her dark eyes flashed. “Why should I let him live when I could get justice for the first person to ever show me an ounce of kindness? The girl who was... everything to me.” her voice broke and her face crumbled. Her shoulders shook, and Emma was even more shocked to see tears spill from   
Regina’s eyes than she had been when Regina started shouting. 

“E-everything?” Emma croaked. ‘The girl who was everything to me’. That was what Regina had just said. 

Regina did nothing to prevent the tears from falling, nor did she make any attempt at controlling her voice when she said: “don’t you see?! I LOVED her! I loved her with every fucking fiber of my being! And then she was taken from me. By Joseph Bouquet. He showed her no mercy when he killed her that night, so why should I have shown him any? My soul, if I have any, is already beyond saving, so what difference does it even make? He took everything from me. It is only fair that he pays for his crime with his life.”

“You... You loved Christine,” Emma whispered and felt how everything suddenly clicked into place. 

“More than my own life,” Regina said and as she blinked, fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I loved her, and she loved me. We could have had everything. If Joseph Bouquet hadn’t started pursuing Christine. If he hadn’t killed her. I couldn’t prevent it from happening because I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. I cannot ever make up for that. But I most certainly could avenge her death and get justice for Christine. So that’s exactly what I did.” She stopped talking and abruptly walked into the room behind the curtain. 

Emma stood rooted to the spot. Reeling from what she had just learned. Regina had loved Christine. And she had loved Regina. It hadn’t just been a close friendship. They had been... in love with one another. Emma inhaled sharply. Why had she never realized that? Why had she never grown suspicious of the soft way in which Regina had talked about Christine. The fact that Christine had had a room in the lair. That her clothes and hairclips were still here. That Regina had made a dress for her. That Regina had composed music for Christine? 

God. How dumb she had been. The answer had quite literally been staring her in the face this whole time. And now Bouquet was dead. Regina had strangled him. Killing was wrong. Killing was bad. Taking a life was the most horrible thing you could do. So naturally, this should make Regina a bad person. It should make Emma terribly afraid of her. 

But she was not. Despite what Regina had told her, she still was not afraid of Regina.

Before she could examine her feelings more closely, Regina emerged from the room behind the curtain. She had something in her hands. A small, square book with a flowery pattern. Emma immediately recognized it as Christine’s diary. 

“You are a good person, Emma Swan,” Regina said, voice soft now. One eye blinked behind the white half-mask, and Emma was certain that Regina was blinking away tears. “And your sense of justice has not been warped yet. You know that killing is wrong and should not go unpunished. So do whatever you need to do. Report me to the higher authorities upstairs. Tell them what I’ve told you. That I killed Joseph Bouquet in cold blood. Let them come down here with their pitchforks and torches to track down this murderer.” She pushed the flowery patterned diary into Emma’s hands. “But before you do, read this diary. Let Christine tell you her story. It is time. Not because I want to justify my actions. But because she was here. She was real. And she deserves to tell her part of the story. Tell them- all of them- that I never harmed Christine. Tell them that I rather would have taken my own life than harming her. Let it be known that the Phantom of the Opera loved Christine Daaé with every fiber of her being. That diary is the evidence. Let it be known that the Phantom of the Opera willingly would have given her life in exchange for Christine’s without thinking twice about it. That’s all I ask of you. I do not care what happens to me. I’ve done what I vowed to do. I got justice for Christine. From now on, I just... I don’t care anymore.”

“Regina-“ 

“Go,” Regina said, pushing Christine’s diary further into Emma’s hands. “Go now, and leave me. Read Christine’s diary. Then do what you see fitting. What you could and should do. Do not let your own sense of justice be swayed. Bouquet was a murderer. But so am I. I had my vengeance. What else is left? What else matters?” With that, she took off the red scarf and clutched it in her hands as she turned around and went back inside the room behind the curtain. 

And Emma felt so shaken and stunned that she simply left the lair with Christine’s diary in her hands. Her legs trembled under her, and twice she had to stop because she was sure she was going to be sick. How long hadn’t she wished to find out the truth about Christine Daaé and her mysterious relationship with the Phantom of the Opera?

Now Emma wished that she wasn’t carrying Christine’s diary in her hands. Now it felt like cruelty that she was holding the truth in her hands....

To Be Continued...........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. The secret is out. Should the next chapter be titled 'The Phantom and Christine' or simply 'Christine'? I can't quite figure out :)
> 
> And what do you think Emma will decide? She knows that murder is wrong. Will she tell someone what Regina has done?


	39. Christine, Christine Part I

Emma felt completely numb when she arrived back in her room. The diary felt too heavy in her shaking hands, and she ended up dropping it onto the bed with a soft thud. She didn’t want to read it. But she also did want to read it. No. She HAD to read it. This diary contained the truth. All of it. And she wanted to know the truth more than ever. Christine’s truth. The girl whom Regina.... loved. Emma was still reeling from that confession. That Regina and Christine had been in love with each other. In love. Not just friends. In love. Emma’s mind was spinning. Now she understood why Regina had rejected her. Why she had been so hesitant to let Emma in. Why she had insisted upon sleeping in Emma’s room and ‘monitoring’ her rehearsals when she heard the footsteps. She had been afraid that Emma would become the next Christine. Joseph Bouquet’s next victim. 

Did it justify what Regina had done to Bouquet? 

No. Of course it did not. Murder was never the answer, nor was it ever justifiable. And yet..

Emma couldn’t help but check herself. Had she been naïve? What HAD she expected would happen? That Joseph Bouquet would have reported himself to Mr. Gold? No, of course not. He valued his position far too much for that. And Regina had said that she would ‘take care of it’. Repeatedly. Why hadn’t Emma asked more about exactly what that meant? Honestly, what had she expected? That Regina would waltz up to Mr. Gold’s office and report Bouquet? 

Emma bit her lip. Once again, she was making excuses for Regina. But she couldn’t help it. She didn’t WANT Regina to be a cold-blooded murderer like she had described herself. She wanted there to be a   
meaning. She wanted.... Well, she wanted the murder of Joseph Bouquet to be justified. What was it that Regina had said? An eye for an eye. 

But murder was WRONG. It was! Emma knew that. It didn’t matter who you were or what you had done, murder was never the answer. And you could not solve death with death. 

Emma looked at the diary laying on the bed. Regina wanted her to read that diary. And she also wanted her to report her. That’s what she had said. That Emma’s sense of justice had not been warped yet. She closed her eyes. Had it been anyone but Regina, she would not have hesitated to report the person. She wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing the person to justice. But now... Now she wasn’t as sure. 

Regina wanted to be caught, that much was evident. Otherwise she never would have openly admitted to killing Bouquet. She didn’t care about her fate now that he was gone, and she had gotten justice for Christine. 

If Emma reported her, Regina would go to prison. As she should, of course. All crime should be punished, and Regina had committed the most serious one of all. She had taken a life. 

But... 

Regina in prison. Regina not being in the opera anymore. Regina rotting away in some cell, alone and isolated from everything and everyone. Exactly like she had been when she was a child and lived with her mother. She would not have the freedom to move around like she did here. In the darkness, but still. In a prison, she would be monitored all the time. And what about the other prisoners? Suppose they would do something to her? Something bad? Regina had already endured so much heartbreak and abuse in her life. She would decay in a prison cell. And it would more than most likely be for the rest of her life. 

Emma closed her eyes in an attempt to prevent the tears from falling. Regina locked away in a cell for the rest of her life after everything she had endured already? An abusive mother. A man who had tried to hurt her when she was only fourteen. Feeling like she was forced to pretend to be a young man after that. The accidental death of a girl whose feelings she couldn’t return. Living in a cold, dark lair under the opera house. The death of the first person who had shown her love and affection, finding out that she was murdered, and then going to prison for killing the person who killed Christine? 

It was too much for one person to bear. Emma couldn’t do this to her. 

But murder was wrong! What kind of person would she be if she let a murder walk free? She couldn’t let her feelings for Regina cloud her sense of justice. That wasn’t right. 

She opened her eyes again, suddenly angry with everything and everyone. Why had she been put in this situation? Why was it suddenly up to her to decide Regina’s fate? She couldn’t. She knew what she SHOULD do. But COULD she? Could she really go to Mr. Gold and tell him the story of the Phantom of the Opera and what she had done to Bouquet? Could she betray the woman who had inspired her voice and given it life? The woman whom she harbored such strong feelings for? The woman she was in love with? That had not changed. Emma could feel it. She still harbored the same feelings for Regina. 

Regina. Emma always thought of her as Regina. Not The Phantom of the Opera. But Regina was right. They were one and the same. The Phantom of the Opera was a part of Regina. A huge part. The part of her that had made sure Regina had survived when she was in dangerous situations. And Emma could not have one without the other. She had to accept that somehow.   
Accept that Regina wasn’t just the kind, yet sarcastic woman who had taught Emma to feel the music. She was also capable of harming the people who had wronged her. She was capable of executing her own sense of justice. In cold blood she had killed Bouquet. She had described how she had strangled him. Without mercy. Without an ounce of guilt. 

And yet... And yet she had asked Emma to tell the authorities about her. She wanted to be caught. To be punished. She had to feel guilty to some extent. Otherwise why ask Emma to tell everyone about what she had done to Bouquet? Surely, that was the guilty conscience talking, was it not? Regina DID have a heart. She wasn’t some soulless monster. Soulless monsters did not protect like she had protected Emma. Soulless monsters did not fall in love like Regina had fallen in love with Christine Daaé. She was not making excuses for Regina again, she was simply thinking the truth. And that was: that while she did not know every part of Regina, nor would she ever pretend to do again, but she know some parts of her. And the parts she had seen, were not monstrous or soulless. They were good and kind.

Emma sighed. There was no way she could decide this. She didn’t want to. Didn’t want to be in charge of Regina’s fate. She couldn’t. Not like this. Whatever she chose to do would be the wrong decision. If she said nothing, she would let a murderer get away with it. But if she DID say something, Regina would be taken away, and Emma would never see her again. 

Emma felt tears pool in her eyes. Why couldn’t Bouquet just have fallen? Why couldn’t it just have been an accident? Why did Regina have to confess her crime to her like this? If she wanted to be caught, she could so easily have shown herself to the entire choir right after Bouquet had landed on the floor. Why did she have to put the responsibility on Emma? It wasn’t fair to put her in this position. 

Frustrated, Emma rubbed a hand over her eyes. The tears kept coming and coming, and she could not stop them. Not even when she tried to take deep breaths. A sob escaped her lips, and she hastily pressed them together. She couldn’t let anyone hear that she was crying. She couldn’t cause anyone to be suspicious of her. Then they would coax the secret out of her in a matter of no time at all, and Emma did not feel like telling anyone. Not yet. Not until after she had...

She looked at the diary laying on her bed. The innocent, flower patterned diary written by a seventeen year old young girl who had been murdered. How often hadn’t she wished that she was allowed to read it? How often hadn’t she wanted to know all the secrets Christine had written down in it? 

Now she could in fact find out. She could flip the diary open and start reading whenever she wanted. It felt like she was invading Christine Daaé’s privacy, but she had no other choice. Regina had given the diary to Emma for a reason.

Because she wanted her to read it. Emma couldn’t refuse. But there was still something that bothered her. Regina was normally so secretive and mysterious. Why did she suddenly openly admit to having killed Bouquet? Why had she just given the diary to Emma without thinking twice about it? That wasn’t normally how Regina acted. She had a nagging feeling that something was wrong.

But thinking about Regina’s motives would get her nowhere. There was only one thing she could do that could bring her the tiniest little bit of clarification about at least one thing. With shaking fingers, she reached for the diary and finally opened it. It did not take her long to find a diary entry: 

November 20th, 2016.

I’ve been neglecting my diary again, but I’m not gonna apologize for that. That would be ridiculous, apologizing to a book. So instead I’m going to write about what happened to me today. I can barely believe it. To be honest, I haven’t been feeling very well lately. Well, I was. For a few weeks. And then my mood just dropped. I started to think a lot about my dad again. I remembered that I was all alone. And the teasing has sort of started again. Today someone said “rusty old hinge” to me again. Of course Ruby went off on them, but I didn’t really care. I have days where I don’t care. Anyway, I didn’t want any dinner so instead I just went back to my room. I was feeling really shitty, so I was actually crying, which is embarrassing, but everything was just sorta overwhelming for a moment and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Anyway, as I’m half laying on my bed and crying, I suddenly hear this voice. A woman’s voice. She said my name. Which should probably have freaked me out, but it didn’t. And then she started singing. To me. I don’t know the song, it sounded like some kind of lullaby, but her voice... I’m not sure I can even describe it. It was ethereal. Unearthly. And yet so completely human. But it seems ridiculous to assume that the owner of such a beautiful voice even can be human. She sounded like. Fuck, she sounded like some kind of angel. An angel of music. And I just felt... good. She calmed me. Her singing made me feel like everything was less hopeless. Like things could actually be good again. When she was done singing, I thanked her. Then I asked her who she was. And where she was. But she didn’t answer me. She just.... vanished. But where to? And where did she even come from in the first place? I have to know. I have to hear her sing again. I have to find out who this angel of music truly is.’ 

Oh yes. Emma had already read that once. And Regina had gotten so terribly angry with her. That had been the first time Emma had gotten a glimpse of The Phantom of the Opera. With a heavy heart, Emma flipped one page forward and read: 

November 21st, 2016.

‘Okay, I barely know where to begin. As I mentioned, I found out that the woman’s voice was coming from behind the mirror, and what happened last night only made me more sure of it. So tonight when everyone else had gone to sleep, I decided to find out what is going on once and for all. It was the middle of the night, but fuck sleep! I was wayyy to jittery to even think about sleep! I got out of bed and started to look more closely at the mirror. If I had been a detective, I would checked for microphones or recording devices as a proof that someone is messing with me, but the thing is, I don’t think that anyone is messing with me. That voice singing to me last night was definitely not a joke!  
Anyway, I’m trailing off here. I started examining the mirror. I couldn’t find anything obvious that stuck in, and honestly, I was in a bit of a mood, so I ended up giving the mirror a shove. And then another one. Not the most mature thing ever, I know, but I was so frustrated because I wanted to find out about the mystery voice that consoled me last night. I shoved the damn thing, and suddenly the mirror started to rattle in its frame! Obviously, I got hella worried because I thought the mirror would come apart and land on me or something, but it didn’t. Instead it fucking slid to the side!! Yep, there’s a great big hole behind my mirror! Big enough for someone my size to wiggle through. And big enough for an adult person to wiggle through as well. Whoever it is, singing to me, has to use this hole in order to communicate with me! God, I honestly still can’t believe this! And I’m thinking that since the voice disappeared from my room, that hole has to lead somewhere, right? I’m definitely going to find out more about that tomorrow night! No one will notice if I vanish through the wall. And if I get lost... Well, I doubt anyone except maybe Malena would miss the rusty old harp. The perks of being a wallflower and all that, ha ha...’

Emma swallowed something. Her throat felt raw and swollen. Something prickled in her eyes. Christine Daaé’s thoughts at last. She had imagined this many, many times. But nothing could ever have prepared her for it. To think that this adventurous, curious young woman had been murdered. It was heartbreaking. And there was something else she noticed too. That Christine described herself as a ‘wallflower’. That was exactly what Emma considered herself to be. A wallflower. She swallowed. She and Christine hadn’t been that different at all. She blinked back tears as she turned a page in the diary and read:

November 22nd, 2016.

So. I’m becoming notorious when it comes to writing in my diary, but god, I’ve had the most insane evening ever!! I’m writing this in the middle of the night because I literally cannot stop thinking about it, so technically its November 23rd already, but whatever. Back to my insane evening. After another dreadful rehearsal in which some of the older students laughed at me and teased me, I went back to my room. I brought my dinner back upstairs and said that I wanted to be left alone. Then I locked the door and pushed the mirror aside. I was so afraid that I had just dreamed that there was a hole behind it, but nope, it was real enough. Thank god. It was pretty dark, but I used the flashlight in my phone to see. And sure enough, the hole wasn’t just a hole. It was a kind of passageway or labyrinth. I couldn’t handle the suspense, so I went through the hole armed with nothing but my cellphone. I know, I know, totally reckless of me, if I was in a horror movie, I would probably be the first one to get bumped off. The idiot who tried to lock herself inside a room while an axe wheeling psychopath was coming for her, but honestly, what else was I supposed to do? Just shrug and push the mirror back and stop thinking about the hole behind it? Come on. I couldn’t just do that. This was my discovery. Of course I had to investigate. That’s what my dad used to say to me. ‘Always be curious, Christine. The world is full of wonder’. And if a hidden labyrinth behind the mirror in my room was the only kind of wonder I would experience, how was I supposed to just leave it alone?  
The labyrinth was pretty cold. And dark even when I was using my phone as a flashlight. And there were also rats. So. Good times. But obviously, I continued, duh. I had just started to wonder where the hell I would end up when the tunnel suddenly tilted downwards, and I saw lights. And I heard someone too. Someone who was playing a piano. I was almost starting to think that someone was messing with me, because how the hell would a piano end up in a passage under the opera? But anyway, I didn’t yell or try to call anyone out. Instead I just continued, and it didn’t take long before I reached a lair. No, I’m not making up stories. I swear to god, there’s a fucking LAIR under the opera house! It was full of flickering candles, and I honestly thought that I was dreaming or something. That’s when I heard the piano music again, and when I turned my head.... There was a woman sitting by a little keyboard in the lair. Yep. A woman. She had long dark hair and was wearing a grey gown with those annoying bat-sleeves I always manage to spill on. And she was also wearing a white half mask. It covered the right side of her face, and I found that to be really weird. For some reason, that was pretty much the only thing I could focus on at the time. Maybe my brain was trying to protect itself from the shock at finding a woman in the cellars or something like that. But anyway, there I stood and gaped like a fool. Unable to say anything. I could just... look at her. She had some serious talent at playing the piano. And then she started singing, that’s where my legs were starting to feel seriously messed up. All weak. But there was no doubt in my mind that I had found the woman who had sung for me. It was the same voice. God, I could have listened to it forever, and I would have if I hadn’t suddenly fucked up. I accidentally kicked a rock, and that startled the woman. She looked directly at me, and I’m telling you, she had some seriously dark eyes! It wasn’t that she was frightening me in anyway, she just sat there, but I still ended up yelping like an idiot, and then... I took off. God, I was so stupid! I literally just bolted! And all the while I was running as fast as my legs could carry me, I heard the masked woman call out to me. ‘Wait!’ she called. ‘Please wait!’. But now in hindsight, I know that she wasn’t trying to sound scary. She was pleading for me to stay.   
Shit, I was so ridiculous! Why didn’t I just stay instead of running away? It wasn’t like she was coming for me or anything, she was literally just sitting there and doing nothing.   
I’m so angry with myself for reacting that way, and I have a plan: tomorrow night, I’m going back to apologize to her. That’s the least I can do!’

Emma couldn’t stop reading. She simply had to know what happened next. With fingers that still trembled, she turned another page in the diary and read: 

November 23rd, 2016.

Oh. My. God.   
I honestly don’t think there are better ways to write it, but I’ll try to be a bit more coherent. If I can.   
I went back to the lair tonight. Damn right I did. I locked my room door, pushed the mirror aside and then disappeared right through it. Like a ghost in the night. And when I came back to the lair, there she was, the woman from last night. She was sitting on the ground. Tonight she was wearing a blue dress, and her hair was sort of pinned up. I’m not sure how she managed, but I know I never could pull off that kind of hairstyle. But anyway, I’m getting sidetracked again. She barely reacted when I stepped in. Just looked at me in a sort of almost scared way. I could barely hear her when she said ‘hello’. Maybe she was shy. Or maybe she was afraid of making ME afraid. I said hello too and asked if I could come in. She just shrugged and said that I already was. In, I mean. And she had a point. I looked around in the lair and saw all the candles and some blankets in the corner and asked if she lived here. She said yes. Then I asked if she was the one who had been singing and calming me when I was upset. She said yes to that too. But when I asked her what her name was, she did not answer. Instead she asked what my name was. I answered her right away. Yes, I gave my name to a complete stranger, someone just bang me over the head with something heavy already!   
The way she said ‘Christine Daaé’ when she repeated my name was.. interesting. It felt like she was tasting a new dish or something. But honestly, I wasn’t afraid of her. She wasn’t scary or anything. She was just... sitting there. She asked me if I wanted to sit down, and sure enough, I sat down. I don’t think this was what my dad meant when he told me to always be curious. I mean, here I was, sitting right next to some strange woman with a weird mask on her face. But I didn’t feel threatened by her. Not at all. She was definitely odd, that’s for sure. First she just sat in silence and looked at me like she was trying to figure me out, but then she asked me to talk to her. Yeah. Talk to her. Extremely weird. But I ended up talking to her. I told her that I used to live in Sweden and that my father was Gustave Daaé. She actually knew of him. She told me that she used to have a CD with his violin pieces when she was a little girl. I told her that he had passed away, and she said she was very sorry for my loss. Then she asked me if I liked living in the opera house. I was being more honest with her than I have been with anyone for months and told her that I wasn’t. Not really. I think I whined a bit when I told her that the other students teased me. She didn’t like that. I saw how she clenched her fist when I said that. She asked why they were teasing me, and once again, I told her the truth. That I couldn’t sing, and people assumed that I could just because I was the daughter of a man who had been so musically gifted as my dad was. I even told her that the other students (except Ruby) said that I sounded like a rusty old harp. She didn’t like that either. She told me that she was pretty good at singing (ha! understatement much?!) and that if I wanted to, she could help me with getting better.   
Honestly, all I want is to fit in here. And since everyone around here are good at singing... Well, it was pretty fucking easy to just say yes. To an invitation from a strange woman. Too easy. Well, I said yes. So there’s that. I’m officially getting lessons from a strange woman in the cellars. Right then. I’m excited and about going back to the lair tomorrow night. I’m nervous about singing in front of her. I know I’m terrible. I just hope she won’t be too hard on me.’

November 24th, 2016.

So. I went back to the lair tonight. Exactly like I had said I would. The woman greeted me right by the entrance and asked if I was ready to sing. I wasn’t. I never am. But I said yes anyway. She didn’t seem overly convinced, though. She was sort of raising an eyebrow and looked skeptical. But she didn’t say anything. Then she told me to sing. Something simple. Simple. Ha. There’s no such thing as simple in the Opera Garnier. But I did as she asked. I chose ‘O Mio Babbino Caro’. That is a fairly simple song. One of those songs we sing as first year choir-member here.   
And I sucked. Of course I did. It went awful. When my voice wasn’t overly pitchy, it was all wobbly and shaky. I did so bad, and I mostly just wanted to flee when I was done singing. But of course I didn’t. That would have been really immature. I was waiting for the woman to laugh at me and send me out of the lair. But she didn’t. She just nodded and said ‘I see the potential’. Honestly, I laughed. I thought she was joking. But she wasn’t. She said that my voice could become excellent with some practice. She asked me to sing the song at a lower range. So I did. Which went super bad too. But she still didn’t send me out of the lair. She told me that we could work with it. I’m not sure how we’re going to do that, but she seemed really confident. Me? Not so much. I might have told her that it wasn’t worth it. That my voice was too bad to ever be improved. But she just scoffed and brushed me off. Told me that if I was willing to try, she would be willing to try too. To make my voice better. We made a deal of sorts. She asked me if I could bring her some food every night, and in return, she would help me learn to sing. A weird deal, but if I can avoid more bullying, I am willing to do just about anything!

November 25th, 2016.

I am so. Fucking. Tired. When she said that we were going to rehearse, she wasn’t kidding around! After dinner, I went down to the lair, armed with sandwiches for her. She greeted me by the entrance to the lair like yesterday, asked me if I had brought her anything. I opened my bag and gave her the sandwiches. She sat down on the ground and told me to sing while she ate. So I did. And, well, it didn’t go very well. Obviously not. Once again, I was afraid of becoming a laughing stock, but once again, she did not laugh at me. Not even once. Nor did she pity me. And I think that was the best thing of all. I’m used to the other choir members teasing me, but it’s the pity I absolutely cannot stand. Usually, the other teachers and students pity me. ‘Christine Daaé, the orphan girl who was dumped in the opera house when her father died, but can’t even sing’. I bet that’s what they’re all thinking about me. That they should pity me because my father is gone, and I haven’t inherited any of his musical talent. When he was alive, it never bothered me, but now that he’s gone, I wish that I’d had inherited at least a little bit of his talent.   
The woman did not pity me though. She just nodded a bit and said: ‘yes. There is something to work with here.’ I might have scoffed. Loudly. How could she possibly think that my voice had any kind of potential? But she ignored the scoff and asked me to sing something else. Anything. It didn’t have to be something classical. Just something. So I ended up singing a Swedish lullaby my dad used to sing to me when I was a little girl. That didn’t go too well either, but the most embarrassing thing happened when I was done singing. I ended up crying. Bawling like some stupid kid! God, I can’t believe I actually cried in front of her! I don’t even know her! My first ‘lesson’ and I end up fucking crying. And I only made it worse by blubbering: ‘sorry, I just really miss my dad’. Gahh! I don’t think I’ve ever felt more embarrassed in my entire life. But she didn’t get angry. She just sort of patted my shoulder and said that it was okay. And strangely enough, it was. For some reason, it didn’t feel as bad to be upset in front of her. She even offered me a tissue. And when I was done blubbering, I told her that I was sorry. She asked me why. I got a little surprised and muttered something about it being embarrassing to cry like that. She was the one to scoff then. Said that she really didn’t understood why that was. There was nothing worse than holding tears back, she said. I think she’s right about that. And the wait she said it made me all curious. I’d like to know more about her. But she avoided any questions by asking me if I felt well enough to continue. I did feel a little better, so I said yes. I shouldn’t have. It sounded awful, but she didn’t even bat an eye. She actually managed to made me feel like it was okay to be bad at singing. And she didn’t even say anything. She just sat there and listened.   
I’m.... Well, I’m looking forward to going back to her lair tomorrow night. It’s weird. I don’t even know her, and I see so many people here in the opera house, but I still feel like she’s the only person who actually understands me...

Yes. That was exactly what Emma had thought. That Regina understood her. Better than anyone else. Christine Daaé had felt the same. Emma flicked a few pages forward and skimmed Christine’s diary entries. They were kept brief and mostly consisted of the same thing. How tired Christine was. How bad she was at singing. How patient Regina was with her. And how much she would like to talk more with Regina and not just sing. Once again, it was like looking inside her own head, Emma thought. She too had been eager to find out more about Regina. She flipped another few pages forward until she reached a diary entry she faintly recognized.

‘November 30th, 2016.

The Phantom likes to tease me. Mainly with my Swedish accent and the way I say certain words, but it seems that she has something new to tease me about every time I come to see her,” Emma snorted quietly. Yes, that sounded very much like Regina. she cleared her throat and kept going: “Tonight it was my middle name of all things,” Emma read aloud. “For some reason, she found it to be very funny that my full name is Christine Charlotte Daaé. It was especially the way I pronounced ‘Charlotte’ that seemed to amuse her. She even came up with a nick name. “Little Lotte” she called me and laughed. I think she was trying to irritate me, but I actually liked it. No one has ever called me Little Lotte before, and while it could sound like she was mocking me, it didn’t feel like it. It felt kinda nice, to be perfectly honest.’   
The Phantom even came up with a little saying. A sort of poem about Little Lotte. She probably only made the saying to tease me, but I really liked it too, so I wanna put it here in my diary. I’m not sure I can remember it word for word, but I’ll do my best:

Little Lotte let her mind wander;

Little Lotte thought:

Am I fonder of dolls... or of goblins or shoes? 

Or of riddles or frocks?

Or her picnics in the attic while her father played the violin, and she read to herself, dark stories of the North.

“No, what I love best, Lotte said, Is when I’m asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head.”

The Angel of Music. I know that she was just joking, but that name isn’t too bad, actually. I heard her sing tonight, and her voice would make anyone weep. Even Malena. She has an absolutely stunning voice, and when I told her that, she smiled at me and said thank you. As though it was a surprise. But it couldn’t possibly be, could it? Surely, she has to know that her voice is incredible. Perhaps she had forgotten it. I’m getting the sense that it has been a very long time since she last spoke to anyone. I asked her tonight. About how long she had been in the lair, and she replied: “oh, Little Lottie. Too long.” What kind of answer is that even? She’s such a mystery. I can’t figure her out, but I definitely want to know more! I don’t even know her name. But I’ve dubbed her ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ in my mind. It fits her so well...

December 2nd, 2016.

I’m neglecting my diary, and for whatever reason, I feel super guilty about it. Maybe it’s a side effect of keeping to myself or something. But I’ve been so busy lately! Sooo many rehearsals. Which doesn’t interest me at all. The only kind of rehearsing I’m interested in is the one I’m doing in the lair with the Phantom. I don’t know if it helps anything, but its nice to spend time with someone who isn’t A: bullying me, or B: egging me on with false enthusiasm like Ruby tends to do. I like Ruby. I like her a lot. But I wish she would stop bullshitting me. I know that I sound terrible. Everyone knows that I sound terrible. There’s no reason for her to try and sugar coat it. It’s not necessary. I can handle the truth. I told that to the Phantom tonight, and she asked me what my point was with that. I was frustrated tonight, so I told her to just tell me if she found me bad. But she didn’t say I was bad. Instead she called me ‘a diamond in the rough’. Of all things. I laughed. I am definitely no diamond. Not even a rough one. But she of course wouldn’t hear of it. She brushed me off and ordered me to sing again. So I did. I’ve been singing all kinds of things lately. Sometimes pieces we rehearse in the choir. And sometimes I get to choose what I want to sing. I like that. The Phantom is a great teacher. She never interrupts me when I’m singing. She always waits until I’m done, and I really appreciate that. I feel like if people interrupt me, I become way worse than I already am.   
After I had sung at least ten different kind of songs, we talked. I think that’s what I like the most. Just talking to her. She’s so mysterious. It’s like she has always been in that lair. Right under everyone’s nose, and no one has ever noticed her. Until I came along. Rehearsing with her makes me feel like I have a secret which is kinda nice. And I’m also starting to feel like she and I could become friends. God, I need a friend! Ruby is great and everything, but she’s very much a part of the whole choir-team-spirit thing going around here. I’m the outsider who can’t sing. The odd one out. Like the Phantom. She doesn’t really fit in either. She told me that tonight. That she has lived a pretty solitary life the past few years. I wonder why. I wonder why. I wonder how she ended up in the lair. Where did she even come from?   
I hope she’ll tell me someday. 

December 4th, 2016.

It’s snowing in Paris today. The roads look like they have been glazed over, and the wind is making the windows rattle. It’s so cold. Obviously, Sweden was fucking cold in the winter too! This is child’s play compared to Sweden in the winter! But the cold still feels different here. More penetrating. I think it’s because of all the big, empty halls and wide rooms with nothing to fill them out. The entire opera house is like a goddamn freezer, and so is the great outdoors too. Ruby and I went shopping earlier, and I swear, the chill went right through my thickest pair of gloves! As we walked around from clothing store to clothing store, I started thinking about The Phantom. How cold it must be for her in the lair. I found out that I wanted to do something nice for her. She has been helping me out a lot with singing and generally just letting me unload whenever I struggle, so I thought to myself that it was only fair that I did something nice in return. In one of the clothing stores we visited, I spotted a red knitted scarf, and I remembered that the Phantom was sort of tugging up her collar a lot last night, so I thought, why not? I bought the scarf. And later, when I went down to the lair, I gave her the scarf. She was surprised, I could see that, and I think I blushed when she took the scarf and said: “why thank you, Little Lottie. That was thoughtful of you.” I really do like when she calls me ‘little Lottie’. I guess it makes me feel special in some way. I’ve missed feeling special.

December 5th, 2016.

Ruby asked me why I wasn’t wearing my new scarf when we went out earlier. Safe to say I did not tell her the truth. But I secretly happy that I had chosen to give the scarf to the Phantom. She was wearing it when I came to the lair earlier tonight. And it really suited her. Giving her the scarf was a good decision. 

December 7th, 2016. 

I feel depressed. I haven’t slept. Because I realized that this christmas will be the first one without my dad. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go through that. I’ve felt shitty all day. I felt shitty when I came to the lair. And the Phantom could see that right away. She told me to sit down on a blanket she had spread out on the stone floor. I asked her if I shouldn’t sing tonight. Honestly, I did not feel like singing at all, but that’s kinda what we do, so I figured I would ask. But she just said that we didn’t have to sing every night. Instead she asked me to talk. About my father. It’s weird, I didn’t want to talk about him at all when I woke up this morning, but when she asked me to, talking about him suddenly made sense. It didn’t hurt as much. I told her little things. Memories from my childhood. How he frowned when he played the violin. How he used to bow his head when he composed. Just little random things that doesn’t seem important but were so essentially him. Then I told her about my old house in Uppsala. She asked me to repeat that, and when I did, she said ‘bless you’. That was actually pretty funny. Then she tried to pronounce it, and it sounded like she was choking. I ended up laughing, and so did she. I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard her laugh. She has a really nice laugh. I felt so much better when I came back from the lair, and I have a feeling that I’ll be able to sleep tonight. We’ll see.

December 9th, 2016. 

We’re only singing christmas carols in the choir now. It seems like everyone have found the christmas spirit. I try my best to do the same, but I’m not really feeling it. I still think a lot about my dad, but I’m glad I have my rehearsals with the Phantom to distract me. My voice is still not good, but I think I’m starting to like singing. Which is really weird considering how bad I am at it, but that’s just how I feel. I’m starting to like singing. I like the Phantom’s way of coaching me. She’s patient, but strict, and it’s the perfect combination for me.   
I love our talks afterwards too. So far, I’ve told her almost everything there is to know about Sweden and my father, and in return she’s telling me bits and pieces. Definitely not a lot. I still don’t know where she came from, but she has told me that she has been here since she was eighteen. I’m not sure how old she is now. Perhaps mid-twenties. She looks pretty young. Not that much older than me. That’s a long time to have lived in a lair. I want to know why she came here, and how she got here, but I don’t think she wants to tell me yet. For the moment, I’m trying to guess her name. It’s ridiculous, we’ve known each other for weeks and weeks, and she still hasn’t told me her name. I’ve tried to coax her into telling me by claiming that I can’t keep calling her ‘Phantom’, but she just laughed and asked me why not. She liked being called ‘Phantom’, she said. She’s a strange one. Not in a bad way, obviously. I really enjoy her company. 

December 12th, 2016. 

Regina. Her name is Regina. She told me so tonight. Regina. Re-gi-na. That’s really beautiful. And that’s all I have to say for tonight. I’m exhausted. I have been working really hard tonight. 

December 15th, 2016.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas lately. How weird it’s going to be, celebrating it here in Paris, far away from everything and everyone I know. I miss my old friends from Sweden. Especially Kerstin. She and I used to spend the Christmas days together, just hanging out and watching cliché Hallmark movies and eating too much junk. There’ll be none of that this year. I’ve barely heard anything from her since I came to Paris. I guess she’s already forgetting about me. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and now I’m just somebody that she used to know.   
Anyway, I’m starting to sound properly depressed, but I promise that I’m not! I’m just a bit out of sorts, I suppose. I’m glad I have my lessons with Regina. She keeps me, I dunno, grounded in a way, I suppose. Yeah. Grounded. In a way that no one else can. When I’m in her lair, I feel much more like myself. Calmer. I didn’t sing tonight, but she sang for me. I had never heard the song before, but it was really beautiful. ‘Music of the Night’, it’s called. She composed it herself, would you believe? Isn’t that amazing? She’s just so talented. I’m so lucky to know her. 

December 20th, 2016.

Ruby and I was at a Christmas market today. She was there to find a present she could send to her grandmother who lives in Vermont. I don’t have a grandmother I can send a gift to. I don’t even have a father anymore. While we were shopping, I could see that look of pity in Ruby’s eyes, and I started to feel pissy because of it. I started to think irrational thoughts. Like how I wished that I had someone to buy a gift for. Of course I’m going to buy a present for Ruby, but it’s not the same as buying for your family. But I don’t have any family left. So I’ll have to settle for buying for my friends. My first Christmas without my father. It’s so weird. Sometimes I almost get angry with him. Why didn’t he just see a doctor right away when he started coughing? If he had, maybe that stupid lung cancer wouldn’t have killed him!   
But anyway, I’m trailing off here. Back to the Christmas market. We were walking around between the stalls when I suddenly saw something. A music box in the shape of a monkey holding two cymbals. The seller made it play for me, and the whimsical little tune reminded me of Regina. I can’t explain why, it just did. And while I was looking at the monkey, I started thinking about how long it had to be since anyone gave Regina anything for Christmas. I started to feel really sad for her instead for myself, so I ended up buying the monkey. The seller was a bit surprised. I don’t think anyone has ever taken an interest in the monkey music box. Ruby was surprised too. She asked me why I’d want an old and rusty music box. I just shrugged and said that I liked it. I’m not sure she believed me, but whatever. I know that Regina will like it. I hope I’ll be able to see her on the 25th of December so I can give her the music box. I hate that she has to spend Christmas on her own. It breaks my heart, to be honest. No one should be alone for Christmas. Least of all her. I think I’ll bring her some of the Christmas cookies, I have a feeling she’d like that. 

December 25th, 2016.

So. It’s late and I should probably be asleep. But I can’t sleep until I’ve written in my diary. Maybe my need to write everything down is pathetic, but honestly, it helps keeping me sane.   
Christmas didn’t turn out at all how I had imagined it to turn out. I was in a really, really bad mood when I woke up. All I could think about was my father. How he and I used to spend Christmas. He would always wake me up by playing Christmas carols on the violin. He would always start with ‘Adeste Fideles’. Then we would have a cup of chocolate and wish each other merry Christmas. Afterwards, we would always go for a brisk walk before sunrise. God, I missed all of it so much when I woke up. I put on a smile for Ruby, but I was literally not feeling it. I just felt so sad and alone. Of course I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to be a party pooper and bring everyone down when it was Christmas. So I faked a smile and pretended to be as happy as could be during the Christmas party in the common room. Of course there was no lessons today. Instead we listened to Christmas music, ate cookies, and drank mulled wine and hot chocolate. Which was nice and all, but I just didn’t feel like I was a part of it. Ruby tried to include me as much as she possibly could, but she couldn’t be there twenty four seven. And that was fine. Pretending to be okay when I wasn’t was goddamn exhausting.   
While the others were partying and laughing, I started thinking about Regina. I couldn’t get the image of her all alone in the lair out of my head, so I slipped out of the common room. No one noticed me. Not even Malena, who was there to supervise me. I went back to my room and found the music box I had wrapped for Regina. Then I walked through the mirror. I did feel a bit silly and thought that maybe Regina wouldn’t like the music box, or maybe she would think it was dumb or something.   
When I came into the lair, it didn’t take long before I found Regina. She was sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was just sitting there and staring at nothing. She looked as sad as I felt, and I got a huge lump in my throat when I saw her. She didn’t notice me until I was standing right beside her and said her name. Then she looked up and smiled a little. Asked me what I was doing in the lair on Christmas. I just sort of shrugged and sat down next to her. I said, ‘merry Christmas’. She said ‘merry Christmas’ too, and then we both laughed because we probably looked pathetic just sitting there looking sad on Christmas. I gave her the gift, and she stared at me like she couldn’t believe it. I don’t think anyone has given her a gift for a very, very long time, and that makes me really sad. But Regina wasn’t sad. She was so happy about the music box and said that she wanted to write lyrics to the little melody it plays. I’m looking forward to finding out what she’ll come up with. I know it’ll be something good. She’s so good at composing and coming up with lyrics. For a while, we just sat and listened to the music box together, but then she nonchalantly asked me if I wanted to talk about it. She didn’t even have to mention what ‘it’ was, I just started talking about how much I missed my father today and how we used to spend Christmas together with him playing the violin and everything. She didn’t interrupt. She just sat quietly and listened until I was done talking. And she didn’t drop clichés like ‘he’s always with you’. She never bullshits me. That’s one of the things I like the most about her. Then we sat in silence again for a while until she started to sing. It was ‘Adeste Fideles’. Exactly like my dad used to play for me on the violin. I cried. Not because I was sad, but because it was beautiful. I half-blubbered that to her when she asked if she had done something wrong. I told her that she hadn’t and that I wanted her to continue to sing. So she did. And I found myself moving closer to her. I might also have taken her hand. Silly, I know, but I was really emotional, and she didn't mind. I could tell that she was surprised, though, because she sort of patted my hand in an awkward manner, but she didn't say that I should move my hand away. And honestly, I didn't really want to. I just wanted to sit and listen to her and forget about the world for a while. Sometimes her voice is like this soothing balm. When she sings, I forget how sad I am. I forget how much I hurt. Being with her makes everything easier. So although that wasn’t how I had planned on spending Christmas, it was better than I dared hoping. I felt less lonely, and I hope that she did too.

To Be Continued.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter, 'Christine, Christine Part II' will pick up immediatly where this one left off, and you'll know the rest of Christine's diary.


	40. Christine, Christine Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long and extremely sad chapter coming up!

Emma smiled through her tears. Hearing what Regina had meant to Christine was extremely touching. And extremely heartbreaking. She could feel Christine’s grief over the loss of her father seeping through the pages, but it made it all the more heartbreaking to know how Christine’s story ended. In an underground lake. Murdered by Joseph Bouquet. Emma bit the inside of her cheek not to cry. And then she turned yet another page in the diary. Christine hadn’t written anything else in December except for a quick entry on the 31st. ‘Ditched the New Years party and went to the lair where Regina sang in the new year in a way that would have made angels jealous. Ruby will probably ask me questions about where I went tomorrow. I’ll lie and say that I was at the party the whole time. Some lie, but totally worth it!’  
The next time she had written in her diary was on January 12th. 

January 12th, 2017. 

Boy, have I been busy. The rehearsals are in full swing, and the teachers are already talking about prepping us for the big summer concert in July. Pff, it’s wayyy too soon to talk about the summer concert! It’s fucking freezing everywhere!   
My lessons are still boring because I mime most of the time. But I think something has happened to my voice. It’s like I can hold the tone for longer, and I feel like my voice is a bit clearer. I could just be imagining it, but I don’t think I am, actually. I really do feel like my voice is a bit different. I wonder if Regina has noticed it? If she has, she hasn’t said anything about it at all. 

The shift had happened, Emma thought to herself. She had gotten to the point where Christine’s voice was changing from ‘rusty old hinge’ and into something beautiful. The transformation was starting to happen. Exactly like it had happened to Emma’s voice. 

January 17th, 2017.

Yeah, something is DEFINITELY happening to my voice! Today when I was singing with the rest of the choir (I had to sing because Mr. Gold was there for the rehearsal, and he would notice if I didn’t sing), Ruby suddenly looked at me all curiously. I was obviously singing and couldn’t ask what the matter was, but I did after the lesson, and she said that my voice sounded different. Less harpy. Okay, she didn’t say that, but I bet that was what she was thinking. So I was right, my voice is in fact changing and getting better.   
When I got to the lair later, I asked Regina about it, and she just smiled rather mysteriously and said ‘yes, of course your voice has changed, Little Lottie. I wasn’t expecting anything else.’. God, she can be so irritating sometimes. But I still like her. I like her a lot. She always makes me feel better. But I wished that she would tell me things like I tell her things. I feel like she knows everything about me, but I know so little of her. I only know her name. I think I want to ask her tomorrow. If I can know something about her. Just one tiny little thing. 

January 18th, 2017.

Progress! I plucked up the courage and asked Regina where she was born. She seemed surprise at the question, but she still answered. Provence. She was born in Provence. She didn’t want to tell me who her parents are, though. Or were. I have a feeling that they might be gone. They have to be. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here, right? I mean, why live in a lair far below the Parisian opera house if you have a family?   
She told me not to be so nosey and then almost ordered me to sing. But I don’t think she was angry with me. I actually think she likes that I want to know more about her. Maybe I’ll ask her another question tomorrow. 

January 19th, 2017.

Chocolate. That’s her favorite candy. Yeah, I should have picked a better question for sure, but it was the first thing coming to mind, and it wasn’t a difficult question to answer. I think it’s kinda sweet that her favorite candy is chocolate. I must remember to bring her some chocolate tomorrow night. I think that will make her smile. I like making her smile. It always makes me smile too. And she has a really nice smile. It’s like, her face just lights up whenever she smiles. At least the part of her face I can see. Her mask is something I want to ask about too, but I don’t think I’ll ask that anytime soon. It seems like a tough subject. 

January 20th, 2017. 

She really, really liked the chocolate! I wish I’d had a camera so I could have taken a picture of the look on her face when she saw the chocolate I brought her tonight. It wasn’t fancy chocolate or anything, just the regular kind of chocolate bars you can get in the canteen, but Regina still looked at it like it was a lump of gold or something. She ate half of it and offered me the second half, but I told her that it was for her. Not for me. After she had eaten the second half, she said that she wanted to do something in return. She offered to answer a question as a thank you for the chocolate. I searched my brain and.... ended up asking her what her favorite color was. Yep. Her favorite color. Stupid, much? I have no fucking idea how my brain came up with THAT, and Regina laughed at me. Loudly. I can’t blame her. It was a stupid question. But she answered it. And she said black. So not creative. I told her that, but she just shrugged and said that black had never failed her. I suppose that’s true. She does wear black a lot. And it suits her. It really does. 

January 21st, 2017.

Ruby is definitely giving me funny looks when I sing. Like, really funny looks. I wish she wouldn’t, but I know why she’s doing it. It’s because of my voice. Because of how it sounds now. It’s less pitchy and squeaky. The hard rehearsals Regina puts me through every night works. It really is hard work, but it’s so worth it. I know that my father’s biggest wish was that I would become interested in music. And getting better at singing like my mother. She was an amazing singer. I’m so sad I never got the chance to know her before she died. It’s not fair that parents sometimes leaves their children before it’s time. But I don’t want to think about that now. No, tonight I want to be happy about the progress I’m making. And the question I got to ask Regina of course. I asked her how she had learned to sing like that, and she’s fucking self-taught! I don’t know how it’s possible, and I’m pretty mind blown. But I believe her. Of course I do. Regina has never lied to me before. Why would she start now?   
It’s weird. Everyone I’ve ever known has always been lying to me in some sort of way. My dad lied about how he was never going to leave me. Malena lied when she said that I would fit right in here. Ruby lied when she said that my voice wasn’t that bad. So really, everyone in my life has been lying to me. Except Regina. She’s the only person who doesn’t lie. And she’s probably the only person I trust too. It’s weird how you can trust a person you know so little, but I do. I really, really trust her.

January 22nd, 2017.

Raoul De Chagny is an idiot! I don’t care if his family descends from some count or whatever, he’s still a stupid little boy with nothing better to do than teasing. He kept whispering ‘harpy, harpy, harpy’ while I was singing, and in the end, I snapped and yelled at him. I totally ruined the rehearsal, and Mme. Carlotta wasn’t happy with me. But Ruby told Mme. Carlotta what Raoul had been whispering, and she told him off. Serves him well. That stupid boy!   
And speaking of boys, or rather men, when I was in the lair later, I found a black velvet waistcoat and a pair of trousers in the boat-bed. It was definitely men’s clothes, and I think I sounded a bit snappish when I asked where it came from, because Regina was a bit cold when she told me it was none of my business.   
She’s right. It isn’t. It’s just clothes. Probably just from the costume department or something, but it still made me feel weird. Almost like I’m jealous or something, but that’s ridiculous. Why would I be jealous? It doesn’t have anything to do with me that Regina has men’s clothes in her lair. I don’t think she’s keeping a man down there. Or maybe she does, I don’t know. I don’t know her that well, so maybe she does have a partner or some kind of companion who also lives somewhere below the opera. But again, not my business. I have to right or reason to be upset over the men’s clothes in the lair. But I am. Fuck. I am!  
The mood in the lair became weird after I snapped over the men’s clothes. Regina wasn’t nearly as patient as she normally is when she told me to sing. I think I really stepped in it, though I don’t know why. Normally, she doesn’t take it too seriously if I accidentally snap at her. I’ll make it up to her tomorrow night. Apologize for snapping. And maybe ask about the men’s clothes. If the mood is right. I don’t want to upset her. And I am NOT jealous! Really, I’m not! That would be ridiculous!

January 25th, 2017.

I’m not sure I even have any words right now. Regina told me about the men’s clothes tonight. I’m still so shaken that I’m crying. I think I’ll settle for writing one word after this. Erik. 

Emma felt her stomach churn. So Regina had told Christine about Erik after she had discovered her old clothes laying around. She could easily imagine how distraught Christine would have been after that particular conversation. There were no diary entries after that until February 2nd. So either she had been too upset to write anymore, or maybe she had just gotten too busy. Emma was starting to fade a little, but she still continued reading in Christine’s diary: 

February 2nd, 2017.

I’m in trouble. Big, big trouble! No, I haven’t been kicked out of the opera for being a bad singer. Nor have I murdered Raoul De Chagny for being such an enormous fucktard. That would be pretty serious, but so is this. It almost feels more serious in some ways.   
I have feelings for Regina.  
There. I admitted it to my diary. I can do that. No one except me is ever going to read it. Turns out, I WAS jealous when I saw that men’s clothes laying around. I know that now. And I also know how incredibly stupid it is to have feelings for Regina, but I can’t help it. Every time she looks at me I forget what I was about to say. Every time she laughs, she turns my stomach to soup, and when she sings, I literally forget how to breathe. I actually gasped when I was in the lair earlier. She was singing a song she had composed recently. ‘The Phantom of the Opera’, she has named it. I feel pretty honored that she was written a song based on the nickname I gave her. It’s a parody of sorts. She uses words as ‘woman and mystery’ in the lyrics and makes herself sound like some ghastly creature of the night. We laughed about that tonight. Because she is not a ghastly creature. Not at all. She’s wonderful. Such a small word, but so fitting. It’s weird I’ve never been in love with a girl before. And certainly not with a woman either. And that is what Regina is. A woman. Somewhere in her twenties. She has to be. She doesn’t look old enough to be in her thirties yet. Tonight I asked when her birthday was, and she shrugged in response. The fact that she does not know broke my heart, because it means that nobody ever celebrated her birthday. God! I hate her mother! I know that hating someone is wrong, yadda, yadda, but that’s how I feel when I think about Regina’s ‘mother’. She was a monster who abused her daughter! But anyway, I asked Regina if I could come up with a date for her birthday, and she said yes. I decided February 14th. Valentines Day. She laughed at that and told me that she wasn’t sure that date was suitable for ‘someone like me’. I flat out asked her what she meant with that, but she didn’t answer. She just sort of shrugged. But I think I know what she was trying to imply. That she wasn’t worthy of celebrating her birthday on Valentines Day. That’s absolute bullshit! That date is just right for her. And it means that her birthday is coming up pretty soon! I wanna give her a gift. Something special. Something she’ll always remember. I could come clean about my feelings, but I’m not sure I’m brave enough to do that. I don’t know if she feels the same. I’m only seventeen, and most of the time, I have no idea what I’m doing. But I am sure about my feelings for her. I have never been more certain of anything. I am in love with the Phantom of the Opera. No. Actually, that doesn’t sound quite right. I’m in love with the Angel of Music. MY Angel of Music!

Emma swallowed something. She knew it was terrible to feel jealous of a poor young woman who had been brutally murdered, but she couldn’t help it. Regina HAD been Christine’s Angel of Music. Christine’s everything. How was Emma ever supposed to compete with that?   
But then she shook her head firmly. This was not the time to feel envious or think of Christine Daaé as competition. This was the diary of a young girl who had been murdered. This was the truth. And Emma was supposed to read the diary. Not feel jealous. She flicked a page forward.

February 5th, 2017.

I feel like I’m going obsessed or something. Regina is all I think of. All I dream of. Yeah, I’ve reached the state where I’m dreaming about her too. I’m really in love with her. This is not just some stupid little crush that’ll go away on its own. It’ll only continue to grow and grow and grow. I think I have to tell her. Shit. I can’t just keep this to myself. She’ll look right through me. She’s so clever all the time. I’m starting to linger longer and longer in the lair at night. I try to be subtle about it, but I’m not sure how well I’m succeeding. I just want to be with her all the time. To hell with rehearsals. To hell with the summer concert and masquerade. I don’t give a fuck about that. I don’t even give a fuck about the opera house. Honestly, Regina is the only reason why I haven’t run off yet. She’s the only reason I’m staying here. The only reason why I don’t wake up and feel depressed. 

February 8th, 2017. 

How can she not see how I feel about her? Why is she not addressing it? I’m not even being subtle about it anymore. I laugh every time she says something funny. I listen every time she tells me something important. I sing and give it a hundred percent when I do. My voice is still getting better and better, but that’s not what I wanna write about. I wanna write about Regina. Sometimes I even touch her arm or hold her hand. She doesn’t say anything when I do. She just pats my hand lightly in a sort of ‘there, there’-way. Maybe she thinks I do it because I feel upset. But that’s not why. I haven’t really felt upset for a while. But I’m feeling a bit frustrated at the way she responds when I take her hand. Sure, it’s nice when she pats my hand, but it also feels so neutral. Like the thing you’d do to a friend. I don’t want to just be her friend, god damnit! How can she not realize how I feel about her? I understand that she maybe doesn’t have all that much experience with touching and being touched, but I’m like an open book! If she looked into my eyes for just a little longer, she would see the truth there. Sometimes I think about whether she DOES know how I feel and simply ignores it? I hope not. That would really, really hurt! I haven’t felt like this about anyone before. I don’t care that she’s a woman and older than me. I’m cool with being bisexual if that’s what I am. I’ve never had feelings for any other girl or woman. And I don’t think I will have. I can’t really imagine myself falling for someone that isn’t her. God, this diary has turned into a place where I just gush about how wonderful Regina is! But hey, I’m the only one who’ll ever read this diary, so I can gush as much as I want too, right? 

February 9th, 2017. 

I’ve just gotten back from the lair, and I think I’m about to cry again. Tonight when I arrived in the lair, I found Regina doing something that made me feel physically sick. She was harming herself! Cutting teeny tiny marks into her arms with a razor blade. I didn’t handle it very well. I started shouting at her and asked what the fuck she was doing. She got all startled. And then she got pretty cold with me and said that it was none of my business and that she didn’t want to see me tonight. Didn’t want to see me tonight. That hurt so fucking much, I can’t even begin to describe it! I was already in a pretty emotional state, so when she told me to leave, I started crying and begged her not to kick me out of the lair. She actually tried to do so. She didn’t hurt me or anything, of course not, she just sort of took my arm and tried to turn me around, but I... well, I started to yell and wiggle to get her to let go of me. That startled her too, and she immediately apologized for having grabbed me. She swore that she would never do that again, but I didn’t care about that. That wasn’t why I was yelling in the first place. I was yelling because if I left, she would continue to harm herself, and I couldn’t let her do that. I told her that, and she once again told me that it wasn’t my business. But the thing is... it is my business. It became my business when I started caring about her. And how many times hasn’t she been there for me when I’ve been upset and missing my father? This was my time to do the same for her. I don’t know exactly why she was harming herself, but I knew that I refused to let her do it again. If she really wanted to hurt herself, she would have to do it in front of me. I told her that too. And I’m telling you, she turned as white as a sheet! Then she got angry at me for ever saying ‘such a stupid thing’. She would never do anything like that in front of me. She would never do anything that could hurt me. That’s when I really broke down. I cried that she already had, and then I did something that was either really brave or really stupid. I pretty much catapulted myself against her and flung my arms around her neck. I was so sure she was going to push me away, I could feel her arms flail awkwardly, but then she patted my head and sort of stroked my hair which was really nice. She also apologized to me. I’m not completely sure what for, but I accepted the apology. And I stayed with her for several hours and helped her bandage the wounds. We talked, and I sang for her. That new song she has written. ‘Angel of Music’. I really like that one, and she smiled when I sang for her. She praised me for having rehearsed so much and said that she really could hear a difference in my voice. So could I, but that wasn’t important at the time. The only thing that mattered was making sure that Regina was okay. And I think she was. She went to bed in the boat while I was there, and I sat by her bedside for a while and just sang. And thought about how small and vulnerable she looked in the boat. When I left, I took the razor blade with me. Regina didn’t protest. She didn’t want to tell me why she had been harming herself either, but I have a feeling that she will at some point. I’m really beginning to grasp that no one has ever been there for her. No one has ever comforted and cared for her. When my father died, I felt so doubtful of what I should do with my life. But now I know. I’m supposed to take care of Regina. I’m supposed to be her support. I’m supposed to love her. That’s why I’m here. To be with her.

Emma wiped away a stray tear. This was heartbreaking. Regina was right. She and Christine could have had it all. And then Christine had been murdered. This diary was both a love story and a tragedy, and Emma felt physically tired as she turned another page in the flowery diary:

February 11th, 2017. 

Malena gathered all of us in the common room for a ‘serious talk’ this afternoon. She explained that she has noticed that food has been going missing from the canteen lately. She made a point of saying that she wasn’t accusing any of us, but at the same time she implied that no one that wasn’t welcome could get into the opera house. It had to be a ‘local’ as she called it. Shit. This is bad. What if someone starts to suspect me? I have to be more than discreet when I nick food from the canteen from now on. No way I’m gonna let Regina starve just because Malena is suspicious. I can pull it off without being noticed. Of course I can. If I couldn’t, Malena would have pulled me aside and told me that she knew it was me. But she doesn’t. No one does. And I’d like it to stay that way. Regina is my secret that nobody can know of. She seemed more calm when I got to the lair tonight. Didn’t mention anything about what had happened last night. I didn’t tell her about the ‘serious talk’ Malena had had with all of us. I didn’t want her to worry about anything. Instead we rehearsed like we always do. I sang for her, and afterwards, I sat in the blankets while she worked on the song ‘The Phantom of the Opera’. She was humming to herself and sometimes singing the words. She never lets me see when she’s writing songs. She prefers showing me the finished result. I love watching her compose. I love seeing the way her hair spills down her front and the way she holds the pencil. It makes me feel... things. I could probably describe it better since this is my diary, but honestly I’m too embarrassed to write the proper words. It makes me feel dumb, so I won’t. 

February 13th, 2017. 

So. I didn’t write yesterday. I forgot because I was too busy. I went to the mall (alone) to shop for a birthday present for Regina. Her birthday is coming up tomorrow, and I wanted to find something nice for her. Something that just screams ‘Regina’. But that was tougher than I thought. When I got to the mall, I became so overwhelmed and confused. I wanted to give her something really nice, but at the same time I was afraid of ending up buying her something that was too much.   
In the end, I became so frustrated with myself that I waltzed into the first, best clothing store and found a black hat. I think it’s called a fedora hat. Regina sometimes wears head pieces she steals from the costume department, and I figured that it could be nice for her to have something of her own. So I bought the hat and asked the girl in the store to please wrap it for me. And lo and behold, while I was waiting for her to wrap the present, I see Ruby outside! And that was really bad because I had lied to her! I had told her that I wasn’t feeling very well and couldn’t go with her to the mall because of that. If she saw me, she would know that I had lied. And she would definitely ask questions about the present I was buying. Luckily, she walked right past the store and didn’t see me. But she has been giving me some curious glances now and then lately, so I’ve started to wonder whether I should make up some boy back in Sweden. Someone I had to leave behind and haven’t wanted to talk about because it hurts too much. That’s romantic. And it definitely would make her stop wondering. My ‘heartbreak’ over the guy I had to leave in Sweden would be a good explanation for why I’m sometimes acting a bit aloof.   
But there’s some horrible part of me that enjoys having a secret. Terrible, right?   
Anyway, back to yesterday. I got the present and then slipped out of the mall. I had pulled my hood up and like to think that I looked all mysterious. I hid the gift in my dresser. The last drawer has a key, and that’s very practical. That way I can store my diary there without having to worry about it. After having eaten an ultra-quick dinner and hidden food in my backpack, I went to the lair. I just couldn’t wait.  
Regina was waiting for me. She was impatient. She had written a song. For me. Or, well, she didn’t say that, but it’s definitely one that I’ll be rehearsing, so I guess it was KINDA for me, right? ‘Think of Me’, it’s called. We went over it together last night. She sang it for me, and the ending is really difficult because I have to jump an octave. I told her that I wasn’t sure I could do that, but she just scoffed and said: ‘of course you can.’.   
And guess what? I could! Not the first time. Nor the second. Nor the third or fourth or fifth. But when I tried a sixth time, I fucking succeeded and reached that high note! I did not know my rusty hinge of a voice could do that! Regina smiled afterwards and said: ‘I told you, Little Lottie. You can do anything.”  
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I CAN do anything! I was so proud of myself, and so was Regina. I asked if we could rehearse it again, and she said yes. We ended up rehearsing it seven times until my voice was hoarse and I was exhausted. I was actually so exhausted I ended up falling asleep. In the boat. I told her that I would go in there to rest for five minutes, but when I woke up again, it was morning! I slept there all night! Safe to say that I was shocked. And kinda happy too. I can’t remember the last time I had slept so well. And I got to see Regina as the first thing in the morning. She’s beautiful in the morning too. So, so beautiful.   
Anyway. Tomorrow is Regina’s birthday. I can’t wait to give her the gift and celebrate the day with her. I will have to find a way to leave the rehearsals early. Maybe I can say that I have a headache or something.

February 14th, 2017. 

Wow. If I could talk to Christine from yesterday, I would definitely tell her all about today. And how quickly plans can change.   
I did follow the first part of my plan. I made up an excuse about having a headache, and Malena of course bought it. She sent me to bed early. That gave me peace to slip into the canteen before Madame Potts showed up. I took some chicken drumsticks. Regina likes chicken. And then I snuck two cupcakes inside the little box I have in my bag. I then went upstairs and found the birthday candles and lighter I bought in the mall the day before yesterday. Maybe it was silly, but I really wanted to make her birthday as traditional as I possibly could.   
She was wearing a new dress when I came into the lair. Well, I doubt it was a NEW-new dress, but at least I hadn’t seen it before. It was white. So light. And it moved in this flowing way whenever she did. One of her shoulders were bare, and if it’s possible to be attracted to shoulders, that’s what I am. She looked stunning. Like a Greek goddess straight from Olympus. It really suited her. It even matched her mask. Her hair was down. I like when her hair is down. She has these amazing curls. I always want to run my fingers through them. I’m sure they’re really soft. She smiled when she saw me. Greeted me with her usual ‘Good evening, Little Lottie’. She never calls me Christine. But I like being ‘Little Lottie’. I like having a nickname only she uses. She got happy when she saw the food I brought. I waited until after she was done with eating the chicken drumsticks, and then I showed her the cupcakes I had brought. One for her and one for me. Maybe I should have brought four. Two for her and two for me, but I didn’t think of that. But anyway, she was surprised when she saw the cake. I put the candle in it and lit it. And then I sang ‘happy birthday’ for her (my voice didn’t break! Not a single time!), and I swear, she got a bit misty eyed. Her voice was the one breaking when she said, ‘thank you, Little Lottie.’   
Once we had eaten the cupcakes, I gave her the present. She had not expected to get a gift, I could see that. Her hands were sort of shaking when she opened it. She was so happy about the hat. Didn’t think it was silly at all. She actually put it on right away, and damn, it suited her! Like it was made for her! She squeezed my hand when she thanked me for the gift.   
And that’s where I surprised both of us. I fucking kissed her! I didn’t even think about it. I just leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t a long kiss or anything. I didn’t just pounce on her. Didn’t even wrap my arms around her. It was a very small, delicate little kiss. But nevertheless a kiss. As soon as it was over, I realized what I had done and blushed like a clown. Regina just sort of sat there without saying something for a long time. I felt like I had really stepped in it, but when I said her name, she snapped out of it and said: ‘oh. Okay’. Then she patted my cheek in the same ‘there, there’-way she once hugged me in. It was awkward, and I didn’t stay for that long afterwards. I told her that I had an early rehearsal tomorrow morning, and she accepted that. She seemed pretty eager to get rid of me, to be honest.   
But now that I’m back in my room, I wish that I had stayed longer instead of fleeing. Of course I should have stayed and talked to her about the kiss. Because I have a suspicion. I think... I think that the kiss I gave her tonight might have been her first kiss EVER. Fuck. What if I’m right?! Her first kiss ever, and I just go for it! God, your first kiss is supposed to be special, god damnit! Mine wasn’t, it was awkward because I was twelve and so was he. But this was different. I’m older now. Almost eighteen, and I like to think that I’ve gotten better at kissing since I was better. But the look Regina gave me afterwards gives me pause. And that’s why I suspect that it was her first kiss. The look on her face. Like she didn’t really believe that someone would be interested in kissing her. That really breaks my heart. 

It broke Emma’s too. With tears streaming down her face, she turned a page in the diary. 

February 15th, 2017.

It was. It was her first kiss. She told me so tonight when I came to the lair. The first thing out of my mouth was that we needed to talk about the kiss. She agreed and asked me to sit down. And that’s when she told me that the kiss I gave her last night, had been her first. She almost seemed angry when she said it. Though not at me. More at herself. And embarrassed too. Like she was confessing to a crime and not telling me that she had never been kissed before. Then she dryly asked me if I pitied her now. The grown woman who had never been kissed before. I didn’t. I told her that. And I also told her that I was sorry for having been so careless and just kinda ‘stolen’ her first kiss so easily.   
She scoffed and said that she perceived the word ‘stolen’ in a much different way. That’s when she told me about Sébastien. The man she met when she was just a child. How she travelled with the other travelers. And what he almost did to her when she was only fourteen. The kiss. The attempted rape. And her act of self-defense. Yeah, I was shocked when she told me that she had killed a man, but honestly, what would have happened to her if she hadn’t? He would raped her. I don’t doubt that for a second. And just thinking about it makes me sick. It made me sick yesterday. I cried. Regina misunderstood and thought that it was because I was afraid of her. Obviously, I told her that she was wrong. That I was crying because of what had almost happened to her and that I was glad it didn’t. She was surprised. And even more so when I told her that I was so sorry about kissing her without thinking about it. But she surprised me too when she told me that she did not mind the kiss. She had just been a little surprised, that was all. She hadn’t expected that someone would ever want to kiss her. Of course she doesn’t count Sébastien’s vile act as a kiss.   
‘I did not know you felt like that about me, Little Lottie’, she said, and I started laughing through my tears and could barely tell her that I had no idea how she could not know. I hadn’t been subtle at all. In fact I had hoped that she would find out. But she just shrugged and sounded almost business-like when she asked me if I thought that I would be interested in kissing her again sometimes. Hell yeah, I was interested in kissing her again! I think I sounded all shy when I asked: “now?”. Regina smiled at me when she replied: “now is a good a time as ever.’  
So yeah, I kissed her. Properly. And it was fucking amazing! She didn’t flail her arms this time. Instead she held me. Which damn nearly made me melt on the spot. I never wanted to stop kissing her. I wanted to continue all night. But I’m not a super-human. Eventually, I needed to breathe. And so did she. Her eyes sparkled. Her hands were on my cheeks, and her voice was all soft when she said: “Christine Daaé. The gods smiled when they imagined you.”   
Nobody has ever said that to me before. But hearing her say it felt absolutely amazing! I don’t know how I’ll be able to sleep tonight!

February 16th, 2017. 

Bla-bla-bla, rehearsals, bla-bla-bla, lunch, more rehearsals, bla-bla-bla, dinner, stealing food and then FINALLY heading down to the lair. Regina greeted me. With a kiss. I could have fainted right then and there. Kissing her was exactly as wonderful as it was last night. She is a fucking good kisser. I told her that and she laughed at me. Told me that I was silly. And that I was a good kisser too. The best one she had ever met. We both laughed at that. She actually made a joke about never having kissed anyone until I came along.   
Once we were done kissing (when was that? A few minutes later? Or perhaps an hour?) we sat together on the floor. Our knees touched. Regina held my hand and asked me about my day. I told her that Malena has moved me to the front row. That made Regina happy, and I told her what would make ME happy. If she could be there for my rehearsals sometimes. I had expected her to call me silly, but she just smiled very mysteriously and said that maybe there was a way. Then we kissed some more. I stayed in the lair for the night. Yep, I’m writing this from the lair! I’m in the boat bed, Regina is sleeping on the blankets on the floor. I wasn’t gutsy enough to suggest that we shared a bed. And I probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep if she had. So. There’s that. She makes me... Oh god, I can’t even write the word in my diary! It’s too embarrassing. Well, I know that it’s not, but what if she accidentally saw it? I don’t want her to think that I’m objectifying her, because I’m really, really not! But I can’t help but feel the way I feel when she looks at me.

The rest of February consisted of short snippets in which Christine mostly described what it felt like to kiss Regina. There were only very brief descriptions of Christine singing in the choir and how she was slowly getting better. Emma lightly went over those passages. She couldn’t bear read descriptions of how in love Christine had been. It was too painful. And not because Emma was jealous, but because it was so heartbreaking when knowing how Christine’s story has ended. And this version of Regina broke her heart too. The way Christine described her, made her seem so happy and optimistic. Not at all like the resigned, sad woman Emma had come to know. Christine’s presence had turned her into a happy woman. And her death had ruined Regina’s life completely.   
Emma flicked through the rest of February. She continued to flick until she reached mid-March and found a passage that did not feel like she was violating Christine Daaé’s privacy. And Regina’s.

March 17th, 2017.

It’s been a weird day. Guinevere, the head soprano was sick, so Malena needed someone to fill in for her. Ruby volunteered, of course, I know that she wants to be the front figure in the choir some day. A few other girls volunteered too, but to everyone’s surprise (especially mine!) Malena pointed to me. Me! I honestly thought she was joking, and I heard a few snickers here and there. Especially from Raoul. But Malena told him to be quiet, and waved me forward. She actually wanted me to sing. A few of the haughty bitches in the choir kept whispering and giggling and I got so mad and just wanted to write them a new one. So when the pianist started playing, I started singing. And I sounded good! Like, really good! My voice was fucking clear! I didn’t sound raspy or rusty. Tonight I could really hear how much my lessons with Regina had paid off. Boy, was the room silent when I was done singing! Ha! Malena was delighted at how much better I had gotten, and I told her that all the rehearsals had helped. That wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t tell her who I had been rehearsing with. Ruby was surprised too. Very, very surprised. When we got back to the common room, she asked me how I had gotten so good, and I’ll admit that I was giddy from my success, so I ended up telling her that I had been tutored by an angel of music. Obviously, Ruby thought I was joking, and she laughed in a sort of ‘yeah, yeah’-way. Later in the lair, I told Regina about what had happened. She was sitting leaned back against the wall and I was laying on a blanket with my head in her lap. She was stroking my hair, and she was proud of me when I told her about how I had been Guinevere’s stand-in. She praised me a lot which was really nice. I love when she praises me, and I also love laying with my head in her lap. It makes me feel completely relaxed. And honestly, her fingers in my hair does make me feel other things too, but I’m not gonna write about that. We had such a great evening together. We sang. And kissed. Both of it a lot, ha-ha. I didn’t want to leave, so I asked Regina if I could stay. She said yes. So I went back to my room and changed into my nightgown and grabbed my hairbrush. It’s weird, but when I was about to leave again, I’m sure I heard someone outside. But I’m pretty sure it was just my imagination. It was pretty late, and I was tired and dazed from kissing. I didn’t know that kissing could make your brain start to make up weird shit, but whatever. 

March 20th,, 2017.

Was asked to be stand-in for Guinevere again. The choir whispered again. But I said yes. And I sang like a goddamn professional. They can stop calling me Rusty. My voice has improved enormously. My dad would be proud of me. I’m proud of me too. But Regina is the one who deserves the most praise. She’s the one who turned my voice into something beautiful. She was there tonight when I sang. I saw her in Box Five and although I was worried that she would get caught, it was nice having her there. Very nice. We met up in the box when everyone else had left. She took my face between her hands and kissed me. Then she said: ‘congratulations, Little Lottie. I’m so proud of you. You don’t need me anymore.’. I’m pretty sure she was just joking, but I got defensive so quickly and told her never to say stuff like that again. I’ll always be needing her. My voice improving isn’t gonna change THAT.

March 25th, 2017.

It turns out that Guinevere’s illness is a bit more serious than what we first thought. Her parents came and picked her up yesterday to take her to the hospital. Everyone in the choir chipped in so we can send her a bouquet of flowers and a ‘get well soon’-card. I feel sorry for her. She’s a very talented girl. It would be a shame if she misses out on the rest of the season. It also means that the choir currently does not have a lead soprano. Malena came to the dormitory yesterday and told us everything. Right now, they’re waiting on reply from Opera National De Paris. Apparently, some girl named Meg Giry might be able to fill in for Guinevere. But until then, we don’t have a lead soprano. And that’s a pretty bad situation. We were all worried whether the choir lessons would have to be postponed until we have a new soprano, but Malena asked me to join her in the hallway for a moment. When we were alone, she asked if I would be willing to fill in until then. Me?! I just stood and stared at her with my mouth open. I don’t think I looked very intelligent, but she just smiled and said that my voice had really improved and that she was happy that I had listened to all her advises and never given up. I maintained the poker face, and I could barely believe my own ears when she straight up begged me to cover for Guinevere until we knew whether Meg Giry would be available or not. I said yes. Damn right I did! Why wouldn’t I? This was my chance to prove that I was no rusty old harp any longer! Malena thanked me and said that I was doing the choir a huge favor.  
I told Regina about the same night, and she was delighted. She picked me up and spun me around. Then she kissed me. For a long time. I was completely out of breath when she finally put me down, and I may have been a tad dazed too, because I asked her if she would ever write a song for us. A duet. To her credit, she didn’t laugh. She just looked intrigued. Like she always does when it’s something to do with music.   
This morning, it was announced that I would be the temporary soprano in the choir. There was a note hanging on the board in the common room when we got there. ‘Due to illness, Guinevere is out for the rest of the season. Her role will temporarily be taken over by Christine Daaé’, the note said. Everyone except Ruby reacted the same way. With disbelief. Raoul especially was nasty about it, but I just held my head high and said something about Malena being the one in charge of that decision and not me. Of course Ruby told everyone to shut up, but I could tell that she was surprised too. She wanted to know more about the Angel of Music. I was so miffed because of stupid Raoul de Chagney, so I told her parts of the truth. That I had been feeling a presence in my room when I was singing, and that this presence lived in the cellars. Obviously, she didn’t believe that. She laughed at me and called me lucky. A good imagination and a good voice. I laughed too, but I sort of wish that I could have told her the truth. That I was in love with a woman living in the cellars.

March 28th, 2017. 

Regina seemed a little sad when I came to the lair tonight. She didn’t want to tell me why, and I tried my best to cheer her up. I sang for her. Think of Me. And parts of that song she’s been working on. ‘You Are Music’. But it didn’t really work. She told me to leave. Told me that she wasn’t feeling so good. Yeah, right, like I would leave when she told me THAT! Of course I stayed. I held her hand. Wanted to kiss her. But she didn’t want me to kiss me tonight, she said. I’ll admit that that stung. The hurt must have been obvious on my face because she quickly apologized and said that she wasn’t feeling like that because of me. It was because of herself. Because of what she had done. She told me about Daniela Khan and what happened to her. Today is the anniversary for it. Of course I told her that it wasn't her fault, and it isn't! Daniela falling was an accident! She shouldn't have pushed Regina into showing her face. I said that to Regina, but it didn't help. She felt ugly, she said. I became furious and started saying that she was not, but she cut me off and started talking about her face. Described how it looks, etc. and then she asked me why I’d want to be with someone so ugly as her. Hearing her say all that horrible stuff about herself really got to me, so I half-yelled that I didn’t want her to talk like that about herself. And then I blurted out that I love her. Yeah, I know! I did not plan on it at all, and I was just as surprised as she was. But I meant it. She just stood there and looked at me, and even though I was afraid I had really stepped in it, I told her that it was okay if she didn’t feel the same way about me and that she didn’t have to say it back if I wasn’t ready. But I had barely finished the sentence before she was standing right in front of me. She cupped my cheeks and told me that she does feel the same. She loves me too. Words were replaced with kisses, and she did not look sad for the rest of that night. And I bet she won’t tomorrow morning either. Yeah, I’m still here. Of course I am. It doesn’t feel right to leave when she had been this upset. Now I’m sitting in the boat and looking at her while she sleeps in the blankets. She has already said my name twice, and I’m trying not to ‘aaaw’ out loud because of that. I love her so much. But I cannot help but thinking about the reason for her sadness. The part of her face that’s hidden behind the mask. I know that she described it to me earlier, but hearing it described and seeing it with your own eyes cannot be compared. I wonder if she will ever show me what she looks like without the mask. Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. One thing is for sure, though. I will not love her any less because of that. My feelings will not change no matter what.

April 1st, 2017. 

There are rumors going around the dormitory. That I apparently ‘faked’ being bad at singing and then ‘pretending’ to get better to get attention. Come on, give me a break! That’s fucking ridiculous. Urgh, this place is so goddamn toxic sometimes! I vented to Regina and she scoffed and said that the rest of the choir are idiots. She’s right about that. Sometimes I wish I could just leave this place. But I won’t leave Regina! No fucking way!

April 5th, 2017. 

Not much new to tell, to be honest. There are still rumors. Raoul’s still being a jerk. I still fill in for Guinevere. I’m starting to think that Meg Giry might not be coming at all. I’m still doing good, more than good! My voice is getting better and better. Regina and I are mostly rehearsing the songs I’m singing as lead soprano, which is obviously a good thing, but I do miss singing the songs she makes. They’re just better. When I told her that, she winked at me and said: ‘of course they are, Little Lottie’. Her flirting distracted me, and we ended up kissing instead of rehearsing. Woops.

April 10th, 2017. 

Urgh, I’m really neglecting my diary. But I’m just sooo busy! Rehearsal is still hectic. Both my official rehearsal and the less official one I have with Regina. We barely have time to do other stuff, but tonight we got to talk about my birthday. My eighteenth birthday. My first birthday without my father. That’s gonna be weird, and if I didn’t have Regina, I’m not sure I would have been able to cope. She asked me what I wanted for my birthday. She implied that it had to be something special, but I just shrugged and told her that I didn’t want anything. She has already given me so much. It’s not... entirely the truth. There is actually something I want from her. But I can’t be wrapped. I.... want to spend the night with her. Like, REALLY spend the night with her. In the same bed. Writing that I want to sleep with her looks sooo cheesy and dumb, but that is essentially what I want. I wanna show her how much I love her. I want to be as committed to her as I possibly can be. I’m ready. But obviously, she has to be ready too, duh. We haven’t talked about sex at all, but I figured.... if she had never kissed anyone until I came along, what are the chances that she’s slept with anyone? Zero, right?   
Right now, I wish that I had been a virgin too. I would have loved for her to be my first time, but instead I have to live with the knowledge that stupid Mattias back in Sweden was. Why did I have to get drunk at that party? And why did I have to think that sex with some guy I barely knew was a good idea? Urgh, just thinking about it irks me. I prefer thinking about Regina. And how the fuck I’m supposed to start the whole sex-conversation with her. That’s gonna be like, super awkward. Maybe I could show her rather than tell? Take things just a little further and see how she reacts. Yeah. I think that’s a good way to approach the subject. 

April 11th, 2017. 

When I came into the lair, Regina was moving a mannequin away, and I asked her what she was doing with that, she wouldn’t answer me. She said it was a secret. Hrmph! She definitely enjoyed teasing me, and I almost got annoyed until she made up for it with kisses. And I did what I had planned on. I took things a little further and started touching her in places I haven’t done before. She didn’t flinch or stop kissing me. She touched me too, and it had me gasping like a fool. When we stopped kissing she laughed and asked me what was with me tonight. I didn’t answer. Just shrugged and winked at her. Then I spotted some papers laying by the keyboard, but when I asked about them, she said it was a secret. A secret?! She’s writing something she won’t let me see! I told her that it wasn’t fair, but she just said three words that immediately made me stop thinking. ‘Sing for me’.

April 12th, 2017.

Another rehearsal, another day. Things are still going great. And so are things in the lair. Too much kissing and I won’t be able to concentrate about the rehearsals tomorrow, ha, ha.

April 13th, 2017.

Regina picked me up right outside the mirror tonight. That was really nice. She was wearing the hat I gave her for her birthday and everything. While we walked to the lair, she told me that I couldn’t go into the room behind the curtain tonight. I asked her why, and she said there was a secret there. I tried to coax it out of her, but she wouldn’t tell me. I wonder what she’s up to? Nothing I said or did worked. Not even kisses. She just joked that ‘the Phantom of the Opera has many secrets’. Right. I never should have come up with that nickname! 

April 14th, 2017.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Eighteen years old. I’ve been thinking a lot about the future tonight. I know that I am supposed to stay at the Opera Garnier until I am twenty one, but I’m not so sure I want to. I’m homesick. I miss the big old house I lived in in Sweden. I miss the little lakes I spent my childhood swimming in. I miss speaking Swedish. I miss everything about Sweden. But I’m torn. Because Regina is here. And under no circumstances do I want to leave her! She’s the only one who makes this worthwhile. As long as she is here, so am I. And I am looking forward to celebrating my birthday with her tomorrow. 

April 16th, 2017. 

As I’m writing this, I’m looking at Regina now and then. She’s still asleep, and she is so, so beautiful when she is asleep. All long limps and hair splaying out on the pillow. The boat bed is barely big enough for two, but we’re still making it work. It’s still pretty early in the morning, but I can’t sleep. I feel like I have to write down the events from last night before they fade. I want to be able to look back and remember every single detail.   
I was woken by Ruby and a couple of other girls who sang happy birthday for me. They gave me gifts and congratulated me. I didn’t get to celebrate much because of the rehearsals, but later at dinner, the entire choir (even Raoul) sang ‘happy birthday to you’ for me. It was really nice. Nobody whispered about me today. For once. I played the ‘I’m sensible’-card after dinner and said that I wanted to head back to my room and do some homework for tomorrow. Everyone accepted that even though Ruby rolled her eyes.   
But of course I didn’t do any homework. Of course I went through the mirror immediately. The lair looked absolutely incredible with all the stunning candles and birthday banners. Yep, Regina had hung up a birthday banner. I have absolutely no idea where she had gotten it from, and she didn’t wanna tell me either. She too sang ‘happy birthday to you’ for me, and it sounded completely differently from when the choir sang it for me. She apologized for not being able to offer me any birthday cake, but she did have something else for me. She disappeared into the room and brought the mannequin out. It was wearing the most amazing dress I have ever seen in my life! All light and layered and perfect! Exactly my style! I hugged her and asked where she had gotten that stunning dress from, and I could have been knocked over with a feather when she told me that she had made it herself! That is amazing!!! She asked me if I wanted to try it on right away, and duh, of course I did. I went into the room behind the curtain with the dress and put it on. There were no mirrors there of course, but Regina told me that I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful. And a bit sassy too, to be honest. I joked around and said that I felt like I should be called ‘Aminta’ when wearing that dress, and Regina said: ‘well then, Aminta. You look stunning.’ The way she said it was all low and raspy, and I pretty much threw myself at her and kissed her. And I immediately felt that desire. Like I was going to die if she didn’t touch me or something. Dramatic, I know, but that was how I felt. When I finally tore myself away from her, I told her exactly what I wanted. She stroked my cheek and told me that she felt the same way but that she was a little hesitant. I told her that I knew why, and she flushed slightly and said she felt ridiculous. A grown woman who had never slept with anyone. I said that she wasn’t ridiculous at all, but she didn’t really react to that. Instead she asked about my ‘experience’. It was my turn to blush when I told her about the boy I was with in Sweden last year before everything went to hell. I also told her that it hadn’t been very successful. Both me and the guy were drunk. It was fumbly and weird and actually a little painful. Not a very good first time. She grimaced and said that she didn’t really want to hear any details. She was jealous, she said, and that made me laugh. I like that she was jealous of a completely random guy I’ll never be seeing again. She said and I quote: ‘Christine Daaé, do you truly want to be with me?’. I said yes. Right away. But I also made a point of telling her that I didn’t want to pressure her into something she wasn’t ready for. She laughed at that and said that I sounded like a proper adult. And then we stopped talking. She pulled me closer and kissed me deeper than before. Then I felt her fingers toy with the buttons in the dress and-

Emma skipped over that part. She knew by now that Christine went into great details when writing in her diary, and this was something Emma did not need to know. Reading about the first time Christine and Regina took the next step in their relationship seemed disrespectful to both of them. Her heart was still breaking. The love Christine Daaé had had for Regina was radiating off the pages from the diary, and Emma blinked back tears as she quickly skimmed over the page, hoping to find a piece that did not describe intimacy. But when she spotted a sentence that made her pause, she just had to read: 

-suddenly stopped and looked at me. She said very quietly that if we truly were doing this, I needed to see her. All of her. I knew immediately what she meant. The mask. I told her that she didn’t have to take it off if she didn’t want to. But she ignored me, and in one swift movement, she took off the mask. There she was. All of her. Uncovered. Bared for my eyes only. I won’t pretend that I wasn’t startled when I looked at the whole of her face for the first time. I have imagined seeing her without her mask for about a million times, but none of it matched the truth. She misinterpreted my silence and started crying very, very quietly. Hid the right side of her face with her hands and told me that she understood if I wanted to leave. I got livid. Not at her. But of all the people who have rejected her because of her face. I sat up in the boat-bed and gently peeled her hand away from her face. Then I touched her there. She flinched but didn’t move my hand away. I told her that she was beautiful. That I loved her. That I did not care how she looked underneath the mask. She was still Regina. I kissed her again and again, and-

Emma started crying again. Regina had shown her face to Christine. And Christine had reacted in the best way possible, thank god! Her heart wept for both of them and the ending their story had taken. 

She could barely see anything as she flicked forward in the diary, skimmed passages of Christine dividing her time between rehearsals and meals with the choir and nights in the lair with Regina. Late in April, she mentioned the song called ‘Point of No Return’ and wrote about how Regina had written it as a duet. Emma had no problem with remembering the... suggestive lyrics. Now she knew exactly what the song was about. And which role it was written for. Aminta. The name Christine had called herself when wearing the dress Regina had made for her. Emma skipped forward again. Regina and Christine's intimacy was none of her business. She read about Christine’s thoughts of being named lead soprano for the big concert. Her surprise. Her uncertainty of whether she could do it or not. The comments from the other choir members. How she felt about performing in front of Malena and Mr. Gold. Regina’s reassurance that she could do it. How proud Regina was of her. It could all have been so good. And then she reached a passage from mid-May that made her stomach clench: 

May 18th, 2017. 

Call me crazy, but I’m a hundred percent sure that someone was walking around outside my room late last night! Urgh, it was so annoying. I was so sleepy I yelled to the person to piss off so I could sleep...

It continued through May and into June. The footsteps outside Christine’s room. How it irritated her. How she saw it as a nuisance and not something that was really serious.

Emma’s stomach clenched. Why hadn’t Christine just told Regina about it? 

But Christine had been under the impression that she was just being silly. She hadn’t known that she potentially could be in danger. Until late in June. 

June 25th, 2017. 

I asked Regina if I could start sleeping in the lair permanently. She asked me why, and I told her that I wanted to be with her as much as I could. That is true. But I also wanna be away from my room and those footsteps! If I stay in the lair, I won’t be able to hear them. And I’ll be close to Regina. Win-win. She said yes, and I packed a bag and spent the night in her boat bed all tangled up with her. My head was resting on her chest, and she had her arms around me. For once, I actually felt safe. And I slept a full night. I should have asked her a long time ago.

June 29th, 2017. 

Call me a rebel ‘cause I totally lied and said I had a headache when I didn’t. That wad just an excuse to stay in my room for the rest of the evening. Then I smuggled Regina inside my room. We both laughed a lot and we ended up in bed. Our clothes on the floor and Regina’s mask on top of it. I was laying with my head on her chest and she was holding my hand. I thought about how nice it was. Not to feel on edge while in my room for once. How amazing it could be if we could do this every day. Without having to hide. If only there was some place where we could be together.

July 1st, 2017. 

I invited Regina for the masquerade ball with me. She said yes. We’re not worried about being caught. What’s one more mask in a room full of them? I’m so happy we can go to the masquerade together! And she was so excited when she talked about which costume she should wear. It was so cute. And I know she’ll look amazing no matter what she chooses. I can't wait to dance with her. In public. Of course we'll be discreet. If I can stop myself from kissing her, ha ha!

Emma choked down a sob. The diary was thinning. The date of Christine Daaé’s death was getting closer and closer. It broke her heart and made hot tears spill from her eyes and onto the page. 

July 10th, 2017. 

I got a costume for the masquerade ball today. Apparently, it’s some kind of ‘Star Princess’ costume. It’s really pretty actually. Very poofy. And the boots are to die for! I can’t wait for Regina to see me in them. And the costume. Obviously. The masquerade ball didn’t mean very much to me until I asked Regina to come with me. Now I’m looking forward to it. But first I have to sing, obviously. I’m trying not to be too nervous about that. I’m naïve enough to hope that my success at the concert will be the start of something new, but the truth is that I do not feel at home here at all. I’m starting to realize that more and more. I think about Sweden almost all the time. How happy I was there. Regina is worried about me. She can sense that I am not happy here. But I don’t know how to solve the situation. I really don’t. Oh well. I suppose everything will work out. Some way. 

July 16th, 2017. 

What a night! It started out completely normal with me coming to the lair with my usual overnight bag and food for Regina. We had dinner together. We sang together. We ended up in the boat bed all tangled up which was amazing. But then Regina said: ‘my dear Christine, you must tell me what’s going on. I can sense that you are unhappy, but I cannot help you unless you tell me what’s going on.’   
So I told her the truth. That I was not happy in the opera house. That no matter what, I didn’t feel at home there. She held me close and kissed the top of my head. Told me that she felt the same. I think I was a bit dazed because of the stuff we just did in bed because I goofily suggested that we ran away together. It was a joke, of course, but Regina took it completely seriously and said: “yes, why don’t we?”. My heart started beating faster and faster, and the more we talked about it, the more I wanted to do it. We can actually do it. I have a small inheritance from my father. Not enough to buy us riches, but enough to lay a depositum for a small apartment somewhere. I said that to Regina, and her eyes started to sparkle. Then she squeezed my hand gently and said: ‘Christine Daaé, will you come away with me? Will you leave the opera house behind and start over somewhere else with me?’   
It was almost a marriage proposal. Almost. And of course I said yes. Maybe it’s completely crazy, but I don’t care. For a long time, I’ve only wanted to things. To be with my Angel of Music and get away from Opera Garnier. Now I can! Oh, how we made plans as we laid closely together in her bed. We’ll do it tomorrow night. First I’ll sing and hopefully knock it out of the park. Then we’ll go to the masquerade ball and dance together. Perhaps we’ll slip away to go to my room, who knows, Regina seemed to find the bed really comfortable. And then... We’ll disappear. Poof. I’ll go back to my room and grab a few things and then I’ll meet Regina in front of the opera house. Her throne is actually another door to yet another secret labyrinth. One that leads out of the opera house. That’s the way I’ll take. Maybe not the easiest way out, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself by using the front door.   
‘And one day, you will go back to Sweden, my darling Christine,’ Regina said as she kissed the top of my head again. ‘Someday, I will take you back, and we will live there for the rest of our lives without ever having to worry about being caught.’   
I drew a silly little picture of a house and a lake on one of Regina’s many papers, and she laughed. God, I am so happy! We’re really doing this. Leaving the opera house. Together. I just have to get the concert over with. Then the future will begin. My future with Regina. We can finally be together without having to hide, and that is all I want. She is all I want!

The rest of the pages in the diary was empty. Christine hadn’t written anything else, and Emma knew why. She remembered the planchet she had seen in the crypt. Christine Daaé, 15th of April 1999- July 19th, 2017. Christine had been found dead only three days after having written the last diary entry. She and Regina had been wanting to run away together. Now Emma knew that. And she also knew why Regina hadn’t been with Christine that night. Because she had been waiting outside the opera house. Waiting for Christine who had never shown up. Bouquet had gotten to her first. 

Emma scrubbed a hand over her eyes as she at last closed the diary. Every part of her physically hurt. Now she knew everything. The whole story. And it hurt more than she could ever have imagined. 

She curled into a ball on the bed and sobbed. Didn’t care how many people would hear her. It felt like her chest had just been ripped apart. Poor, poor Christine who had been so excited about her new future with Regina! And poor Regina who had lost the girl she loved but couldn’t tell anyone about it. 

Emma wanted to go to the lair. She really did. But her legs refused to carry her. She couldn’t move. She could only lay and cry on the bed while every little passage from the diary popped up in her mind and made fresh tears spill from her eyes. How could fate be so cruel? How could it have robbed Regina of the girl she loved? Why hadn’t Christine just told Regina about the footsteps? Regina would have protected her, Emma knew she would have. She remembered what Regina had said when she told her about the footsteps. ‘It is as I suspected’. Now Emma understood exactly what that meant. God, how she understood! 

Another sob escaped her, and as she cried for Regina and Christine, she felt something she never thought she would feel. Joy that someone was dead. She was GLAD that Regina had killed Bouquet. He... He had deserved it! He had deserved everything he got!

Eventually, the exhaustion caught up with her, and Emma fell into a fitful sleep where she dreamed about a girl in a white dress screaming Regina’s name as she ran away from her killer, and Joseph Bouquet falling from the bridge and breaking his body on the hard marble floor...

Her mood wasn’t much better the next morning. Her heart bled for Regina and Christine. They had been on the brink of starting a new life together and then Joseph Bouquet had murdered Christine. How could the world be so unfair?! 

She sat slumped over the table in the canteen as she pushed her food around on the plate rather than eating it. 

“Are you not hungry, Em?” Lily asked worriedly. 

“No,” Emma croaked shortly. She couldn’t eat anything. And she didn’t care how many looks she attracted from her fellow choir members and teachers. Malena was there too. Because of the circumstances, she would be supervising the students for most of the day. 

Everyone was a bit quiet today. The lessons had been suspended until the teachers knew more of the 'situation' as they called it. 

Emma knew of the situation. She knew more than most. But the thought alone of walking into Mr. Gold's office and handing him the diary, thereby giving him access to all of Christine and Regina's memories filled her with nausea. She couldn't say a word. All she could do was sit and push her breakfast around on the plate while trying her utmost not to burst into tears.

Lily patted her arm, but Emma couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel anything. Her ears felt kinda stuffy too and she barely flinched when Ruby slammed her tray down on the table with a loud ‘thump!’ 

“Ruby, please!” Belle said quietly. “Do you mind?”

“What?” Ruby half-snapped. Her mood clearly wasn’t much better either. 

“Chill,” Belle said a bit tightly as she glared at the full breakfast tray Ruby had just slammed onto the table. “It’s not like it’s your final meal.”

“No, but I do have a deathbed confession,” Ruby said sarcastically as she angrily poked at the piece of toast she had just grabbed. “If Malena or Mr. Gold tries to write this off as a fucking accident, I’ll   
loose my FUCKING shit! Literally, I swear to god that I will-“

Emma zoned out and she could only focus on the three little words Ruby had just said. A deathbed confession...

What was it that Regina had said last night? 

‘What else is left? I do not care what happens. Let it be known that The Phantom of the Opera loved Christine Daaé with all her heart...’

Emma gasped as the realization hit her like a strong wind threatening to knock her over. The wheels in her head had finally started turning, and she at last understood why Regina so openly had confessed to murdering Bouquet. Why she no longer cared what happened to her. Why she had given Emma the diary. Why it had been important to her that Emma knew the truth. Why she had asked her to let everyone know how much she had loved Christine. 

She had been saying goodbye. For good. 

That was why she had looked and sounded so resigned.

Regina wanted to die. 

“NO!” Emma screamed as she jumped up from her chair. Her movement was so quick, the chair fell backwards onto the floor with a loud thump. 

Several heads turned and looked at her.

“Emma?” Lily said. “What is it?!” 

But Emma did not answer. She just turned around and ran towards the door. 

“Miss Swan?” Malena called. “Miss Swan, where are you going?!”

Emma still didn’t answer. Just ripped the door open, sprinted down the hallway, up the two flights of stairs that lead back to the dormitory. When she reached her room, she tumbled inside, slammed the door shut and then rushed over to the mirror and forced it open so quickly she ended up slicing her shoulder against the glass. She could barely feel it. 

The only thing she could think of as she ran through the labyrinth was Regina. What if it was already too late?

To Be Continued..........


	41. You Are Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N Merry Christmas, happy holidays and all that! I hope you had a peaceful, safe Christmas. This opera ghost is popping in to remind you to wash your hands (honestly, who could forget that in these strange times?) and keep up the good spirit. We will get through it <3
> 
> See you next year ;) )
> 
> MAJOR trigger warning for talk about suicide in this chapter!!

Emma’s lungs were burning as she tumbled through the underground labyrinth. Twice she fell and hurt her knees on the sharp rocks, but she barely registered the pain. The only thing she could focus on was running towards the lair as fast as her legs could carry her. And shout Regina’s name again and again. She kept shouting while running because she needed Regina to know that she was coming. If Regina heard her voice in the labyrinth, maybe, then maybe, it would stop her from doing something terrible to herself. If she hadn’t already done it. Emma cursed herself for not realizing what was going on earlier. Why hadn’t she fully acknowledged how strange it was that Regina simply admitted her crimes and gave her the diary? Why hadn’t she stayed in the lair when she heard the resignment in Regina’s voice? Why hadn’t she realized what that resignment meant? Why had she only THOUGHT about how strange it was that Regina sounded like she was giving up? 

What if Regina was already dead? What if she had in fact already done something to herself that could not be undone? 

Emma’s mind sort of turned blank once she made it past those thoughts. There was nothing where the pain should have been. Because she refused to believe that Regina was dead. She couldn’t be! And she refused to think about what she would find in the lair. The idea of Regina laying on the floor, cold and still, was one that Emma couldn’t wrap her head around. 

A slight cry escaped her as she fell for the third time, but just as quickly she was back on her feet and she was fully capable of ignoring the sharp, stinging pain and the blood trickling from her knee. She couldn’t feel it. Hell, she was even capable of still running. Because she had to. If there was the slightest chance that Regina still was alive, Emma was willing to run a marathon to save her! She was willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant that she could save Regina!

“Regina!” she yelled again, and her voice echoed in the dark labyrinth. 

There was no answer. There hadn’t been the other times she called out, and the idea of what that silence meant, made the nausea rise in Emma’s body. But she didn’t stop running. She refused to give up that easily. A small naïve part of her still hoped that she was wrong. That Regina was alive and well. 

The passageway tilted slightly, and Emma knew that she was getting closer. She knew it because she could see the faint outline of the opening to the lair. But she couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t hear music nor humming. And that alarmed her even further. Normally, she could always hear Regina in some sort of way, but now there was absolutely nothing. Just eerie silence that send shivers down Emma’s spine. 

“It’s not too late,” she whispered to herself. “It’s not too late, it’s not too late!” It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. She refused to accept it. Regina could not be dead. It wasn’t an option in Emma’s mind. 

She literally stumbled inside the lair and managed a rattled: “Regina!” before the lack of oxygen forced her to bend over and massage her sides which were hurting from the sprint. But only for a moment. 

She lifted her head again and looked around in the lair. It was empty. Quiet. All the candles were blown out. All the little trinkets Regina had kept here were gone. Her hat. Her cloak. The gloves she often left on the piano when she took them off while playing. The glimmering hairclips. The bundles of blankets in the corner. All of it gone. The place just looked like a cold and dank lair and not at all homely like it had been when Regina lived here. And the water was rising in here too. The place would end up flooded. 

But Regina was not here. Emma searched in every nook and cranny, and came up empty. The large room in the lair was empty. Now there was only one place left. The room behind the curtain. The curtain was drawn, and Emma found that to be an incredibly bad sign. What would she find behind it?

With a heart that pounded so heavily, it felt like it would pop right out of her chest, Emma walked over to the curtain. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and took hold of the curtain. The nausea made her stomach churn and threatened to spill over as she ripped the curtain aside and stepped inside where she found.... 

Nothing. 

The room was empty. Well, the boat-bed was still here, but all the things Regina normally kept in it, some of her dresses and hair clips, were all gone. The room looked as abandoned as the larger room did, and Emma was both relieved and confused. If Regina was not here, where was she then? It was an enormous relief to not find Regina dead in this room, but what did her absence mean? Where would she have gone? 

Emma walked out of the room behind the curtain again and took another look around in the larger room. 

Empty. Abandoned. What was going on? Had Regina left? As in, left the opera house? Emma found that hard to believe. Where would she go? She had referred to this lair as being her home so many times now, it seemed impossible that she would have gone anywhere. Emma rubbed her cheek. Walked over to the piano where she spotted the sheets of papers Regina used for composing. Normally, they were scattered all over the lair, full of half-written pieces, but now the papers were gathered in a neat pile, and for whatever reason, Emma found that to be alarming. She glanced around in the lair one more time, and that was when she spotted it. Feathers. Black feathers on the floor. She recognized them immediately. It was the feathers from Regina’s cloak. These were the same feathers Emma had found two of in Box Five. Now there was multiple of them scattered on the floor. 

Emma walked away from the piano and followed the trail of feathers. They lead into the room behind the curtain. They were scattered all around the boat-bed, but they did not lead anywhere. Except for out of the room again. 

Emma walked out of the room once more and glanced at the floor. Surely, this trail of feathers had to lead somewhere, right? Regina’s cloak was not here. Meaning that she had to be wearing it still. With legs that trembled slightly under her, she followed the trail of feathers. As far as she could judge, they lead from the piano and into the room behind the curtain, but that couldn’t be it. The cloak was nowhere to be found, and Regina didn’t just vanish in thin air, did she? 

No. She did not. After a moments confusion, Emma spotted a third trail. One that lead to the throne-like chair in the middle of the room. She was quick to walk over there and was momentarily surprised to find that the chair was open. The seat was not actually a seat, but a lid. A lid that was now standing open and was big enough to easily fit a grown person. Emma allowed herself to be surprised for a moment. But then she remembered what Christine had written in her diary. That the throne actually worked as a door to another labyrinth. A way to get out of the opera house. Of course. The black feathers laying scattered around the throne, told the tale of Regina disappearing through the makeshift-throne. 

Emma looked inside the hole in the throne. She could only see blackness. Who knows where she would end up if she went through that hole? Maybe she would end up getting lost in a passage she didn’t know. 

But Regina had gone through this hole. She had to be down there somewhere. All alone in the darkness. And perhaps still with the intention to hurt herself. Maybe she already had. Maybe it was already too late. But if there was just the slightest possibility that Emma could save Regina in one way or the other.... Then the choice was an easy one to make!

Emma promptly swung her legs inside the hole. She grunted slightly as she let her arms carry her entire weight and hang with her legs dangling in the air. Perhaps she would end up breaking both her legs. Or her neck. Maybe she would in fact end up lost, confused, and fatigued. Stuck in some underground labyrinth she didn’t have the shadow of a possibility to find her way out of. 

Emma swallowed. She was afraid. She couldn’t deny that. She was about to let herself fall into a pitch black hole. She had brought nothing to light her path. She didn’t have a jacket or even a cardigan. Her shoes were soaked, and her feet were freezing. 

But what did it all matter when Regina’s life was on the line? 

“I’m coming, Regina,” Emma muttered. “I’m on my way!” 

Then she let herself fall into the pitch black hole...

It was a slide. As opposed to what she had assumed, she wasn’t just falling into nothingness. It was a tube. One of those narrow slides Emma had never dared getting into as a child because it gave her claustrophobia. She wasn’t particularly fond of the narrow tube now either. Nor was she a fan of how fast she was sliding through the tube. Where would she even end up? What if she would keep falling and falling forever?

But then, just as quickly as the insane slide had started, it ended, and Emma landed on some kind of hard surface with a not too gentle THUD. 

“Ow,” she murmured and lifted her head. It was a miracle that she hadn’t broken her glasses. Or her bones. She shakily got on her feet and looked down at herself. Her once white dress was dirty, her shoes brown instead of white, and there were stains of blood on her skirt from the cuts in her knees. She looked a right mess. And where was she even? In some new labyrinth, that much was obvious, but exactly where, she did not know. 

She would find out, though. There was only one way. Forward. To get back she had to climb through the tube, but she tried not to think too much about that. Right now, the most important thing was to find Regina. If she could. 

As Emma started to walk through the strange labyrinth she had found, the concern sat in her chest like a stabbing pain. Where was she? Where was Regina? And how was she ever supposed to find her in this darkness? What if she couldn’t? What if Regina had disappeared forever down here? Emma swallowed something. She didn’t feel very confident or mature right now. This place was very dark, and she was openly afraid of getting lost. Getting lost had always been one of Emma’s biggest fears. Childhood trauma, she supposed, from that time where she had been five years old and at the mall with her mom. Emma had been distracted by a music box on display in a store and had wandered off to take a closer look at it, and before she knew of it, she had gotten separated from her mom. She had actually ended up being lost for thirty minutes before her name had been called over the speaker, and she had been reunited with her worried mom. 

Her mom was very far away right now. And she wasn’t the person Emma was thinking most about. It was Regina. Why had she come down here? Or maybe she hadn’t. Maybe the feathers leading to this place had just been a coincidence. Or a deliberate act to lead someone astray. 

No. The only person who would think of coming into the lair was Emma, Regina knew that. And she would never deliberately lead Emma astray. Not ever. 

It was exactly in that moment that Emma felt herself step in something. Something soft. She had to crouch down to see what it was, but once she knew, she smiled. A feather. A black feather which had fallen from Regina’s cloak. So Regina had been here.

The passageway tilted up, up, up, and Emma was starting to wonder where she was headed. Back to the opera house itself? If this continued, she surely would. But she did not feel alarmed. Not yet. 

Because now and then she spotted a black feather laying on the floor. A symbol that she was still going the right way and that Regina had been here recently. She had to have been. These feathers were quite dry whereas the floor was starting to feel slightly wet. 

And suddenly, she reached.... A door. Emma blinked slightly. Okay. A door wasn’t what she had expected at all, but again, there was no other ways to go. She had to go through this mysterious ‘out of nowhere’-door. She pressed the doorknob down and grunted slightly as she used her shoulder to push against the heavy door. It was hard work, but she managed to push the door open. She slipped through the narrow opening, and as soon as she had done that, the door slammed shut behind her with an earth shattering loud thud that rattled her bones and echoed through the strange place she now found herself in. It was not another labyrinth like she had expected. Instead she found herself standing in front a stone staircase. So she was still going up, it would seem. Okay. 

Emma squared her shoulders and walked up the stairs, feeling puzzled as she did so. Stairs underneath the opera house. Now who would have thought that? It did worry her that she was still going up, though. If this continued, she WOULD end up back in the opera house. And why would Regina have gone into the opera house (and why choose this way instead of the most obvious one?) to turn herself in? Give herself up to the authorities? Emma wasn’t quite sure about Regina’s motives any longer, but she counted on finding the answers at the top of this staircase. 

Up, up, up, she went. It felt like she had walked forever, and Emma was certain that it was starting to get less dark. The light was changing, she was sure of that. She was starting to feel a bit winded, and her knees ached after the hard meeting with the surface she had fallen onto, but she could not stop. She had to keep going. Had to find Regina if it was the last thing she did in her life. She refused to stop until she knew where Regina was. Emma was still worried what she would find at the top of the stairs, but that didn’t prevent her from stop jogging slightly as she continued up the mysterious, stone stairs. She refused to give up hope that Regina was still alive. The feathers left here and there on the staircase gave her hope that she wasn’t coming too late. That she still had a chance of getting to Regina before anything bad could happen. 

There was no railing to grab onto, and the steps were slippery, more than once, Emma’s gasp echoed up the stairs when she almost tripped. 

How long had she walked? An hour? A minute? She did not know. But she did know that her legs were aching. And that the strange staircase came to an end as soon as it had started. She knocked her head against something hard and cried out in pain. She rubbed the top of her head and used her other hand to feel what it was she had knocked her head against. Something hard for sure. A tile? No, it didn’t really feel like a tile. Now Emma used both of her hands to touch the hard surface, and she was surprised when the ‘tile’ creaked slightly as though it was going to move. And then she realized that it wasn’t a tile at all. It was a hatch! Eagerly, she pushed against it and groaned as she used whatever strength she had left. 

The hatch creaked loudly. And then it moved upwards and revealed a hole big enough to fit a person. Emma was more than surprised when she saw... daylight! She had followed a hidden staircase underground all the way up to a place where there was daylight! That was incredible. But she couldn’t be consumed by the wonder for long. Because now came the next and difficult part. Emma extended her arms up and grabbed on to the sides of whatever surface there was above her. Her arms trembled with effort as she hoisted herself up. Her legs were dangling in the air, and it was difficult not to panic as she hang there, dangling in midair. Emma was in no way athletic. Sports had never been something she was interested in. Now she wished that it was. It felt like her arms were going to give in and she would fall onto the floor below her. She wasn’t sure her aching knees could handle a second fall, to be honest. Emma felt tears of frustration gather in her eyes as her arms trembled again. She had made it so far, and now it felt like she couldn’t make it the rest of the way because she didn’t possess enough strength in her arms. 

But then she heard something skittering above her. Something or someone was up there. Could it be Regina? The possibility of it being Regina, somehow brought Emma the strength she needed, and she kicked worse than ever as she hoisted herself up, up, up. Now she could poke her head through the hole, and she was more than surprised when she saw the blue sky and parts of a black surface. She had an inkling of where she was, but she could not know for certain before she had forced her body the rest of the way through the latch. Her shoulders trembled. Her fingers slipped on the surface she was holding on to, but she did not let go. Not even for a second. She had to do this. And she did. Despite the tears of exhaustion pooling in her eyes, she was doing this. Now her upper body had come through the latch, and it was less exhausting to wiggle her legs through the latch. She had done it. She had really made it up here, and for a moment she allowed herself to close her eyes and catch her breath, but then she remembered why she was here. Here. What exactly was *here*? 

Emma slowly stood on trembling legs and looked around. Her inkling was right. She was on the roof. She could see all of Paris from here. The cars were nothing but tiny dots. The wind blowing made her skirt fan out around her, it lifted her hair and made it dance in front of her face until she grabbed the stray curls and forced them back behind her ears. and her stomach did that thing it always did when she was up high. Heights was another thing Emma didn’t particularly like. But right now, her discomfort wasn’t the first thing coming to mind. It was wonder. She had walked up an underground staircase and come all the way to the roof. That was incredible. She took a few steps to the left, barely daring to move because this was the roof, and no matter how flat it was, she was still up very, very high, and her heart was thundering in her chest at the thought of what could happen if she moved too fast. 

God, to imagine that she had actually followed a secret staircase leading from underground and all the way up here. It was hard to believe still. That she willingly had let herself fall into pitch black darkness, walked through a strange tunnel she had no idea where lead to, and then found a staircase that lead to the roof of the opera Garnier. She doubted anyone knew of that staircase. 

Except for....

Emma heard yet another sound, and she turned her head. What she saw almost stopped her heart and had her gasping. Almost crying out, but not quite. 

Regina was standing on the roof. Her dark curls were bouncing around her face, and the wind made her cloak drag backwards and scatter feathers all over the roof. She was standing so still. Unmoving. 

But only inches away from the edge of the roof. And Emma didn’t have to think in order to know exactly what Regina was planning on doing. Jumping. From the roof. Emma’s previous fears about moving too quickly up here, disappeared like snow in the sun, and in the blink of an eye, she was standing near Regina. 

Regina didn’t react to it anyway. Didn’t flinch nor turn her head. Did nothing to acknowledge Emma. Not even when Emma quietly said: “don’t”. She inched closer and tried to figure out whether it would be safe to reach for Regina’s hand or not. She was afraid that Regina would jerk her hand away and trip if she did so. Or even worse, jump intentionally before Emma could get the chance to stop her. 

“Don’t,” Emma whispered again. “Please d-don’t!”

“How did you even- no. It doesn’t matter. Leave me alone,” Regina said shortly. 

“I can’t,” Emma said thickly. “N-not when you’re planning on hurting yourself!”

“’Hurting myself’?” Regina repeated and sounded almost like she was amused. “I’m not planning on hurting myself, Little Swan, I’m planning on DYING. And that won’t hurt. At least not much. I’ll most likely be dead the moment my body hits the ground. It’ll be....” she looked down at the ground far, far below her. “Quick and easy.” 

“I can’t let you do this!” Emma hiccupped. “Please, I-“

“I waited for her,” Regina interrupted, voice thick and grainy. “I waited for her all night, but she never showed up. I stood right there-” she lifted a hand and pointed to a spot on the ground Emma couldn’t possibly see from this distance. “And I waited for her. I waited, and waited, and waited. Until I realized she was not going to show up. I thought that she had changed her mind, so I was disappointed. I returned to my lair and expected her to show up with either an explanation or an apology, but she never did. The next morning, I snuck into the auditorium so I could wait for her after the rehearsal like I often did, but she wasn’t attending the lesson. And then I found out that she had gone missing. I searched for her, Little Swan. High and low. Top to bottom. But I didn’t find anything. And then the next day, she showed up in the underground lake. The lair was sealed off to make it impossible for anyone to find it, and I hadn’t dared returning to it. Instead I hid in Christine’s room. I kept hoping that she would walk through the door and laugh and say that it was all a big mistake. But she didn’t. The next day I heard that she had been found in the underground lake. Dead. Drowned. I refused to believe it. I was in denial for days and kept looking for her all over the opera house, but later on, I was forced to acknowledge that she was not coming back. But when I heard talk of her drowning by accident, I was furious. Christine was an excellent swimmer! She talked nonstop about her trips to the nearby lake when she was with me, and she always mentioned how much she loved swimming. She didn’t DROWN, for fucks sake! At least not by accident. I found her diary hidden under her mattress a few weeks later, and in there I could read about the footsteps she had observed. How she felt like she was being followed, and I just KNEW that someone had hurt her intentionally. She never mentioned a name in her diary, so she gave me no choice but to go after everyone in the opera house. And I did. When I loosened the chandelier and made it fall, it was with the intention to kill the person who had killed her, collateral damage be damned! I didn’t succeed back then, but I have now. Bouquet is dead. And I feel absolutely no remorse whatsoever. He killed Christine. And then he took her god knows where to hide her until he placed her in the lake to make it look like an accident. He took her from me. I took his life. We’re even. And my job here is done.” She turned her head and looked down at the ground far, far below her. 

“Regina, no!” Emma yelped. “Don’t!” she was crying, but she didn’t care. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Regina, I am so, so, so sorry you lost Christine! You loved her, and she loved you, and it breaks my heart that the two of you never got the chance to be properly together. What happened to her, what Bouquet did to her is... it’s beyond terrible, and I can’t even begin to understand the pain you’re feeling, but this... j-jumping is not the answer!”

“Of course it is,” Regina said dully. “the Opera Garnier will be rid of a killer, and if there’s still any hope left for my soul... I’ll go to the same place as Christine. Yes. If I’m lucky, I’ll see her again.” she once again looked at the ground and took a tiny step towards the edge. 

“Don’t!” Emma screamed. “Don’t! Please, don’t! What if... What if Christine could see you now?! Would she have wanted this for you?!”

“Christine is unfortunately robbed of ever telling how she feels about anything,” came the quiet reply. “I am going to do this. And nothing can stop me.” 

Emma too was inching closer to the edge. Closer to Regina. “She wouldn’t,” she continued as though Regina hadn’t spoken. “I’ve read the diary, and I know how much she loved you. She would have wanted you to live! I know that! She would have wanted you to continue no matter what!”

“You’re saying that for your sake. Not mine.” 

“Yes!” Emma almost snapped, emotions muddled and suddenly almost angry for some reason. “Maybe I am! Maybe you think that your life isn’t worth it, but I do! God, I do! I cannot imagine what life would be like without you! Nothing would make sense to me ever again!”

“Little Sw-“

“You’re the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night,” Emma continued, disregarding Regina’s attempt at interrupting and finally letting the words pour right out of her heart. “You have made me feel more safe than anyone ever has before. You’ve shown me the meaning of music. What it can feel like, what I can feel like, and who I can be. You mean m-more to me than anybody else ever have, and I cannot even for a second imagine what my life would be like without you in it. When I look at you, I forget how anxious I am about everything. When you hold my hand, you make me feel as though nothing bad can ever happen to me. When you protected me from Bouquet the other night, I didn’t feel the slightest bit scared because I knew you were with me. You’ve protected me for so long. Please, please let me protect you now.” Emma swallowed thickly and inched closer. She was aching to reach out and touch Regina, but she was scared of what would happen if she did. She knew she had to stall Regina in some kind of way. Talking seemed like the only way to do that, and Emma had no problems with letting the words flow freely from her. Letting out the truth at last. 

“I know that I never can be what Christine was to you," she rasped. "I know that I am not her and never will be, but I am in love with you, Regina. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, it just happened, and for that I’m sorry, but I cannot help it.” she swallowed thickly once more. Her throat felt completely raw. “I know that you do not feel the same way about me, but that’s o-okay, I swear, it is. Everything is okay as long as you just stay! If you died, my entire world would be shattered. There would be nothing left. I would never ever recover from it. It would follow me wherever I walked.” 

Her legs suddenly gave up and she ended up sitting in a kneeling position. Tears were pooling from her eyes and making it nearly impossible to see anything no matter how many times she blinked. “Y-you said that you would protect me,” she hiccupped. “Your death would not protect me. It would devastate me.”

Regina didn’t say anything. She hadn’t for a long, long time. 

Emma was openly crying. She did not care that she just had confessed her feelings in a very direct manner. That she had bared her heart and soul for Regina. She was prepared to say anything that would prevent Regina from jumping, but she was afraid that she was running out of options. What if nothing she said or did would change Regina’s mind? What if she would jump regardless of it?

“You are not alone,” she whispered, shuffling forward on her knees. “I know that you’re hurting, and I know that me being here cannot magically change that, but I will do anything as long as you promise me you won’t do this. I’ll... I’ll even get out of your life for good if that’s what you want. I’ll never bother you again as long as you just stay!” 

Regina still didn’t say anything. The wind blowing was the only sound up here. She hadn’t turned her head either. Or stepped away from the edge. Emma’s throat felt tight and burning. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the scream that would leave her body if Regina suddenly was to take one small step into nothingness. 

“Please!” she sobbed, fully aware that she was full on bawling now. She didn’t care. Nothing could stop the tears from falling now. Not when Regina was standing there on the edge, so willing to kill herself and make it look like she had never been here in the first place. What kind of world would that be? A world without Regina? Not being able to see her. Never seeing her smile or hearing her laugh ever again. The world would be such a dark place. Such a terrible, lonely, dark place. What would she be without her Angel of Music? What would become of her if Regina was gone? Emma knew what would become of her. She would be lost. Perhaps for good. Lost in a darkness where no light could come in. 

“I’m begging you,” she whispered and blinked. Fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks. She was on her knees, begging Regina in the most literal way possible. "Please, please, stay! Do not do this to yourself! I know that you think the request comes from a selfish place, and maybe it is, because I cannot bear the idea of you not being around. I know how much you’re suffering...” she got up from her kneeling position and moved until she was standing directly behind Regina who still hadn’t moved. “And I wish that I could take away your pain. I wish I could bring Christine back to you, but I cannot. I can only beg you not to do this to yourself. Because you are wonderful. You are the cleverest person I have ever met. You’re kinder than you think, you make music that could slow down the world, and you are beautiful...” she had said all of this in a rush and had to draw in a quick breath.

Regina’s shoulders had been drawn up by her ears. That was the only sign that she had heard what Emma said.

“I know you don’t think so,” Emma continued and tried to swallow her sobs. “But I do. You are beautiful. Inside and out. I don’t care what others have told you, they’re all a bunch of assholes! I see you. It doesn't matter that you're wearing a mask. I SEE you, Regina. And The Phantom. Like you said. The Phantom is a part of you, and I will never disregard that again." She bit her lip. "I- I don’t care about what you’ve done to get justice either. It’s not my job to judge what’s right and what is not. I just know that I am not leaving this roof without you, and I’m begging you, please, please step away from the edge!”

Regina didn’t react to it. At least not in words. But her shoulders were trembling. 

“Please?” Emma’s voice failed her all the sudden and became hushed. She was choking on her own tears. “P-please?” she had never pleaded so much in her life. She had never asked so much for one single thing either. But the thing she was asking for now was something so, so important. Leaving the roof without Regina was not a possibility. She still wanted to grab Regina and yank her away from the edge more than anything, but she was afraid that Regina would loose balance if she did so.

“Why are you making everything so complicated?” Regina asked, at last speaking. Her voice sounded rougher than ever. “Why do you have to.... CARE for me? Why are you.... swaying my decisions like this?” she looked down at the ground once more. “I came here for one purpose alone, and now you’re driving a wedge in my plans.”

All Emma could say was: “don’t.” 

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” Regina continued. “You were supposed to-“ 

“I’m supposed to save you,” Emma whispered. “To protect you. Like you have protected me.”

“I am not worth protecting.”

“Yes, you are!” Emma croaked. 

"Why do you insist upon protecting a killer? I am no better than Bouquet. He killed. But so did I. We're the same." 

"It isn't how you are alike," Emma whispered. "It's how you're not. And you are the furthest thing from being anything like Bouquet."

"I am not worth protecting," Regina repeated. 

"Making that decision is not only up to you. Not anymore."

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.” 

“Come away from the edge,” Emma breathed. “Please.” She was only vaguely aware that she wasn’t asking anymore. 

Regina didn’t move. For a moment, Emma was afraid that her words or presence hadn’t changed anything, but then.... Regina’s fingers twitched as she moved her hand backwards and turned it slightly. 

Emma caught the intention behind the movement immediately, and as quickly as she could, she reached out and grabbed Regina’s hand tightly. Relief over holding Regina’s hand again flooded her and made fresh tears spill onto her cheeks. 

“Well then,” Regina said simply as she turned around. The visible side of her face was tear stained and her cheek blotchy. When she blinked, fresh tears spilled from her eyes, but she did nothing to prevent it. Instead she gave a barely-there smile as she said: “I suppose this is the way it’s going to be, isn’t it, Little Swan?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Emma said as she eagerly outstretched her other hand to help Regina away from the edge. 

Regina took her hand. Took a step. 

It was in that moment it happened. The skirt in her dress ended up trapped under her heel, and when Regina took another step, she lost balance and tripped in the skirt. A look of unbridled fear crossed her face when she stumbled and fell. 

If it hadn’t been for Emma’s presence and swift reflexes, Regina undoubtedly WOULD have fallen backwards from the roof and plummeted into certain death. 

But Emma WAS there. And her grip on Regina’s hands were iron-clad. She held on like she never had been holding on to anything before.

Regina ended up with her legs hanging in midair, dangling from the roof and dark hair and cloak blowing in the wind while Emma’s strong grip on her hands was the only thing that prevented her from falling to her death. 

“NO!” Emma yelped as the wind took hold again and made everything, including Regina, sway. “Hold on!”

That look of fear remained etched onto Regina’s face, but her voice was shockingly calm as she asked: “do you think you can pull me up, Little Swan?”

“Yes!” Emma half-yelled. “Hold on! Don’t let go, okay? Whatever you do, don’t let go!”

“I wasn’t planning on letting go,” Regina said strained and with eyes wide with fear. 

Where did Emma get that unexpected strength from? She wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that she was pulling like she had never pulled before. She did not sense the ache in her arms, the creaking in her shoulders. All that mattered was to pull Regina away from the danger. She groaned with effort and might even have cussed a bit in between reminding Regina to keep holding onto her hands and not let go no matter what.

Regina did not say much. She merely stared up at Emma with those wide, scared eyes that suddenly made her look younger than she actually was, and as Emma pulled, she could feel that Regina was helping her by planting her feet on the wall and doing her best to inch up towards safety. Literally clawing to life despite having proclaimed that she was going to jump only minutes before. The evidence was obvious in her eyes. Regina did not want to die. Perhaps she had come up here with the intention to jump from the roof, but sometimes there was long between thought and action. And it was abundantly clear that Regina didn’t wish to die. The look of pure fear in her eyes said it all.

“Hold on!” Emma half-screamed again. “I’ve got you!”

“Yes. I can feel that,” Regina said simply. Her grip on Emma’s hands weren’t less strong than the way Emma was holding on to her hands was. They were clinging to each other. Clinging to their life-line, both of them. 

If anyone had told Emma a year ago that she one day would save a masked woman from falling from a roof, she would not have believed them. And she would have denied to possess that much strength. 

But that is the thing about humans. They are almost always unaware of how strong they are until they have no choice but to be strong, and Emma was no exception to that rule. And she was a lot stronger   
than what she had thought.

With one last guttural groan, the last bit of her remaining strength, and a cuss word she had never dared saying until now, Emma managed to yank Regina back to safety, but despite registering that Regina was no longer dangling from the roof, she kept pulling her away, away, away from the edge. And she pulled so intensely that both of them ended up falling onto the safe, flat roof. Emma first, flat on her back and then Regina landing on top of her 

Emma groaned and gasped at the unexpected contact. And at how frighteningly close Regina had come to falling from the roof.

A split second later, Regina rolled off of her to lie flat on her back on the roof. She released a deep sigh, and her voice trembled when she said: “perhaps my desire to die is... lesser than I expected.” She shuffled up to a sitting position on her knees and looked at Emma. “Thank you. You are... Quite strong.”

Emma could not hold back a moment longer. She flung herself into Regina’s arms, wrapped her own arms around her neck and bursted out crying. She was finally crumbling under the pressure of everything. Finding Regina. Talking her out of committing suicide. Saving her twice. First by convincing her not to jump, and then literally by pulling her back to safety. And the heaviness of reading Christine Daaé’s diary. Reading the diary that had belonged to a young, optimistic girl who was in love and ready to start her future only to be brutally murdered had Emma sobbing and trembling while gasping out: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she really did try her best to express how upset she was at what Regina had been through. Not just loosing Christine, but everything. Her heartless mother, soulless Sébastien who almost had done terrible things to her and every other person who had ever harmed Regina in one way or another. She was fully aware that she was panting and struggling to breathe properly, but she had little to no control over herself. 

“Shh,” Regina gently soothed and did nothing to peel Emma away from her. “Breathe, dear. You’ll work yourself into a frenzy.”

Emma hiccupped. She couldn’t stop. The dam had broken. “Y-you almost f-fell! You could have DIED!”

Regina patted her back in the same ‘there-there’ manner she had done the other night, and even though the touch most certainly was hesitant, it meant everything to Emma. As did Regina’s gentle reminder to ‘breathe, dear. That’s it. It’s okay.’

It took a moment and lots of hiccupping, but then Emma was capable of lifting her head and looking up at Regina with eyes that felt raw and swollen. 

“Goodness me, what a mess,” Regina said. Whether she referred to Emma or to the entirety of the situation remained unclear, though. “We should get off the roof,” she continued.

“You...” Emma’s voice broke. “You won’t come here again?” 

“No,” Regina said. “I will not.” 

Emma believed her word, but... “And you won’t try to-“ she couldn’t even say the words. She had to finish the sentence instead. “-In... in some other way?” that she had to know. She had to be sure that Regina would not try and hurt herself in other ways. 

Regina’s long fingers came up to rest on her cheeks, and her deep brown eyes bored into Emma’s green ones as she repeated: “I will not. I think the brushes I’ve had with the Grim Reaper thus far is enough to prove a point. It is not my time yet.” She shivered slightly.

Emma exhaled a puff of air. 

“But your feelings towards me...” Regina continued, and her mouth twisted slightly. “They are... most certainly a factor in why I was unable to commit to the decision I previously had made.” She tapped her fingers lightly against Emma’s cheekbones. “Even before you showed up, I kept seeing your face for my inner eye. The look on your face when you realized what I had done haunted me every time I tried to...” she glanced towards the edge of the roof, and Emma instinctively felt a little afraid again. “You interfered in my plans in a way that I had not expected. I thought there was nothing to hold me back, and yet you tied me to the opera house. You still do.”

“I-“ Emma wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“You have to know one thing,” Regina murmured as she released Emma’s face and stood from the roof, extending one hand out towards Emma. “And that is that I never once thought of you as a copy or substitute for Christine. Not once. Right from the start, the two of you have been completely different from each other. Do you understand what I mean?” 

“I... I think so.” Emma nodded, accepted the offered hand and stood from the roof as well. 

“You deserve the world,” Regina said quietly and gave her hand a little squeeze. She looked at Emma with those dark, soulful eyes of hers. “You deserve everything. And I so wish that I could give you what you seek, but I cannot. At least not-" she did not finish the sentence and her grip on Emma's hand loosened for a moment. Then she spoke again. "I’m not sure I have anything left to give. Maybe if things had been different. In time or if I had been less brok-...” she trailed off and shook her head. Looked thoughtful. Then sad. Very sad. "Is there anything I can say to make you stop harboring these feelings towards me without being cruel to you?"

"No," Emma said at once. "There isn't. I'm.. I'm sorry. It's uhh, it's too late."

"I see," Regina said almost solemnly.

Emma suddenly felt very timid. "Are you mad at me?" 

"No. I am not. But I don't want you to..." the sentence dwindled and died on Regina's lips.

Emma opened her mouth to ask her about it, but before she could, Regina spoke again: “What I’m trying to say, is that I don’t wish to give you false hope and that you are free to-“

“I know,” Emma interrupted, though she didn’t. Nor did she want to know exactly what she was free to do, but she did know that she didn’t wish to be. It was okay if Regina couldn’t return her feelings. Emma would accept that. She would accept anything as long as she got to occupy one tiny corner of Regina's life. 

Regina gave a quick nod. “We should get off the roof. You do not like heights. You told me so yourself.”

“I’ve told you many things,” Emma mumbled. 

“And I remember most of them. But I do not understand how you came to think of looking for me up here?” 

“It was the feathers from your cloak,” Emma said, glancing down at said feathers now laying on the roof. “They had created a pattern on the lair-floor all the way to the throne which was standing open.”

“And then you just threw yourself into a pitch black hole without thinking?” Regina asked simply. 

“Yes.” 

“You don’t like darkness either.”

“No.”

“Nor small spaces.”

“Not that either.” 

“And yet you still willingly endured both to come here.” 

“I... I had to find you. I had to stop you!”

Regina smiled and shook her head slightly. “You have been very brave, Little Swan. But...” the smile faded as she looked down. “It has taken a toll on you, I fear. You’re bleeding.”

Emma followed Regina’s downcast glance and noted that there indeed was a large red stain right by her knee on the skirt of her dress. The blood had seeped through her thin stockings and the dress. She looked like a complete mess. 

“It looks to me like you’re the one who needs the first aid kit this time,” Regina softly observed. “Can you walk?”

“Yes,” Emma said, quickly putting one foot in front of the other only to feel her left leg tremble and a sharp pain shooting into her knee. “Ouch,” she said, almost surprised at the pain. 

“Yes, that’s what I feared,” Regina mumbled as she grabbed one of Emma’s arms and draped it around her shoulder to support her. “Come, Little Swan. Let’s get you off the roof at once.” 

“Both of us,” Emma corrected immediately. 

“Yes,” Regina agreed. “Both of us.” 

And that was all the reassurance Emma needed. She had no idea how they were supposed to get back to the lair. She had no idea how she was supposed to walk all the way back on her injured leg, but she wasn’t the slightest bit worried either. Because Regina was with her. Regina was right here, supporting her, and breathing in her apple-y scent automatically made everything better. 

Regina had been her Angel of Music and protector for a long time. But today, the roles had reversed. Today Emma had squashed every little impulse of fear for one purpose alone. She had let herself fall into dark spaces and she had tumbled around in strange labyrinths for one purpose alone. To save her Angel of Music...

To Be Continued.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you want them to kiss. I want them to kiss too. Everyone wants them to kiss. And I promise you, it's coming. Soon. 
> 
> Yep, the scene where Emma pulls Regina to safety is shamelessly inspired by the scene in Titanic where Rose almost falls off the ship and Jack saves her. I had to do that because I'm that much of a cliché.


	42. I Am The Mask You Wear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all approach 2021 really, really gently, okay? Nobody touches anything xD

Regina skillfully opened the hatch, and Emma looked down at the floor. It was further down than what she had expected, and she wondered how on earth she actually managed to jump all the way up here. It had to be due to adrenaline rush or something like that. She had read about that many times, but she had never actually experienced it. Well. Now she knew how it felt to possess more strength than you normally did. 

But she didn’t possess any excess strength right now, though. She was absolutely drained. In more than one way. She had never felt more fatigued in her entire life, and her knee hurt terribly. The blood did not keep coming, but still, with each step she took, it felt like a knife was being slammed into her kneecap repeatedly. How on earth was she supposed to jump down the hole in the latch? She honestly wasn’t sure she could, but there wasn’t any other opportunity. She had to get off the roof SOMEHOW. 

“Hmm,” Regina said. “Give me a moment.” She turned around and walked off. 

“Where are you going?” Emma asked, immediately turning her head. 

“Nowhere,” came Regina’s voice from further down the roof. “Just stay put. I’ll be right back.” 

And so Emma stayed put and shifted her weight from one knee to the other while waiting. 

Regina kept her word. She was indeed back within a few seconds, and when she returned, she was carrying a long rope in her hand. When she reached the latch, she crouched down and tied one end of the rope to one of the nearby chimneys. The other end she threw into the hole. The rope was long enough to reach the floor below. 

“There we are. A bit more comfortable than jumping,” Regina said as she rose to her full height. “Would you like to go first? I assure you, it’s quite safe.” She yanked harshly at the rope for emphasis. It didn’t move an inch. 

“Uhm..” Emma glanced down at the rope. It looked pretty safe, but..

“I’ll go first then,” Regina half-chuckled. “Watch and learn, Little Swan.” She sat down and wiggled her legs through the hole. Then she wrapped them around the rope. It swayed slightly as she lowered the rest of her body onto it, but the rope didn’t break. It didn’t even creak. 

Emma could only watch in admiration as Regina as elegantly as an acrobat used the rope to climb down. It was clearly not the first time she had done that, Emma thought to herself. 

Soon Regina was standing on the floor. Meaning that it was now Emma’s turn. She did feel a little nervous as she sat down and wrapped her legs around the rope, and even more so when it was time to let go of the safe surface with her hands and grasp at the rope. She tried not to show how uneasy she was as she dangled from the rope, and she had feared that it would sway, but to her surprise, it did not. It didn’t move at all. 

Ignoring her previous fear of heights, Emma dared glancing down, and she saw that Regina was in fact holding on to the bottom of the rope to ensure that it did not sway. 

“Thanks,” Emma said as she carefully began climbing down the rope.

Regina gave a slight chuckle. “I think it’s the very least I can do. There is a fire escape that leads from the roof and all the way down. We could have taken that instead, but I feared that someone would have seen you and you would have gotten in trouble for being on the roof. Students have nothing to do on the roof.” 

“Neither do you,” Emma said boldly and winced slightly as a sharp pain shot through her knee again. 

“No, I suppose I don’t,” Regina murmured. “At least not for the purpose I was there for.” 

Emma smiled a little as she continued to lower herself down. She had never rope-climbed before, but she considered this to have been fairly successful. She outstretched her legs and was relieved when she felt flat, hard surface underneath. 

“There we are,” Regina said. “You can let go now, Little Swan.” 

And so Emma did. She felt a bit proud. She had done many, many new things today. 

“Alright,” Regina said lightly. “Let’s get going.” She grabbed Emma’s arm and draped it over her shoulder to support Emma once again. And then they began walking down the steep staircase. 

Emma didn’t say much as they walked down the stairs. It took all her strength to keep walking. Her knee hurt terribly, and she found it puzzling that she had not noticed it until now. It had to have been because of the rush of adrenaline, she supposed. 

Regina didn’t say anything either, but for once there was nothing unnerving about her silence. She did not look thoughtful or upset. The silence between them was actually quite comfortable. Emma would have felt quite peaceful if it hadn’t been for the ache in her knee. Managing the stairs was difficult for her, but it helped a lot that Regina was supporting her. If it hadn’t been for that, Emma wasn’t sure she would have managed to hobble her way back. She was definitely not walking fast. So very slowly because of her knee, but Regina didn’t seem annoyed by it at all. She seemed fine with walking in this slow pace. 

Emma searched her brain after something she could say, but she couldn’t for the life of her think of anything. It seemed like she had already said all the things that were to say. She blushed a bit upon thinking about how she had confessed her feelings to Regina. She had not planned to, but Regina hadn’t gotten angry with her. That was a relief, Emma couldn’t bear when Regina was angry with her. 

But Regina had also looked rather sad, and somehow that was even worse...

After something that felt like forever, they finally reached the door. Emma was left to stand on her own as Regina pushed the heavy door open. “In you go,” she said, holding the door open with her shoulder and ushering Emma through it with her hand. 

Emma willingly went through the door and tried not to hobble too much. Or wince. She failed at both. Now it felt like a knife was being plunged into her knee every time she moved it, and she couldn’t hold back a strangled little whimper although she tried. She didn’t want to seem whiny or pathetic. Her knee had stopped bleeding, for god’s sake. It was just a cut. Nothing serious. Nothing to cry about it. 

The heavy door closed with a bang behind Regina as she too went through it. The sound echoed in the passageway, and Emma made an involuntary jerk that had the pain flaring up in her knee once again.   
She bit her lip harshly not to cry out, but she still couldn’t hold back a teeny, tiny whimper. 

“This won’t do,” Regina said simply and put her hands on her hips as she looked at Emma. 

“My knee is being stupid,” Emma acknowledged. “But you can just go ahead. There’s no reason for you to wait around for me-“

“Let’s not be ridiculous,” Regina interrupted, and before Emma could as much as blink, the Phantom had scooped her up and carried her through the passage in a sort of bridal style. “Up you go.” 

Emma’s breath hitched. She knew that this was merely because her knee was injured, but still, her heart was beating ridiculously fast in her chest. She hesitantly put her arms around Regina’s neck. She had to in order to sit better, she did not have any ulterior motives. She did not even think about any ulterior motives. Knowing that Regina did not return her feelings was a firm reminder why she couldn’t allow herself to hope for more reason behind this gesture. But she was certain that she felt Regina stiffen slightly when Emma put her arms around her neck. But only for a split second. Then her muscles loosened again, and she continued walking, demonstrating the same speed and agility as she had when climbing down the rope. 

“Aren’t I heavy?” she asked.

Regina scoffed in an ‘oh please’-manner and did not even answer. Instead she asked: “How is the knee?” 

“Better now that I’m not walking,” Emma replied. Being carried by Regina was most definitely better. In every way. She wished that she could control the blush spreading in her cheeks and the way her heart pounded, but it was quite impossible. 

“Good,” Regina said simply. “How did you come to injure it so?”

“I fell,” Emma revealed. “Right out of the slide.”

“I see,” Regina nodded and frowned slightly. “Yes, the slide is a bit dodgy.” 

“I didn’t know there even was a slide. Or a staircase leading up to the roof.” 

Regina chuckled slightly. “There are many passages and hidden exits in the catacombs, Little Swan.”

“And you know all of them, don’t you?” Emma asked. 

“Perhaps there are passages that not even I haven’t discovered yet,” Regina mused. 

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Emma muttered. She had a feeling that Regina knew of every single passage and hidden doors in the opera house. 

“You think too highly of me. In every single way, I’m afraid,” Regina said simply. 

“I do not.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

That was true. Emma did in fact think very, VERY highly of Regina. In every possible way. Thinking of how openly she had confessed her feelings to Regina when she was currently being carried in said woman’s arms, brought another flush to Emma’s cheeks, and she tried to think of anything else. But she failed. As she failed to look away from Regina’s face. Her mask. Her dark hair. Her deep brown eyes. The way the wrinkle between her eyes appeared and disappeared again. Her one visible cheekbone. Her lips which seemed to be slightly pulled down in the right side. Emma was curious, she admitted that. Curious about what was underneath Regina’s mask, but she would never ask Regina about it. Not ever. That was the decision she had made, and she was going to stick by that decision no matter what. 

“You are looking at me,” Regina said a bit suddenly. “You must stop it.” 

“I’m sorry,” Emma said immediately and sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” 

“It doesn’t bother me. But it bothers you.”

“What does that even mean?” 

Regina did not answer that. She just kept walking, but Emma was not worried that she had angered Regina. She knew she hadn’t. Because after a moment or so, Regina started humming and her voice echoed faintly in the quiet passage. Emma did not recognize the melody, but she did not ask about it either. She merely closed her eyes and enjoyed the sound. Felt so relieved that she yet again was able to hear Regina’s voice. There had been a dreadful moment where she had been afraid that she never would again. Nor see Regina’s face again. That was the reason Emma struggled to look away. Because there had been a moment where she feared that she would never see Regina again. What a terrible fate that would have been. How cruel and bleak a place the world would have been if Regina had disappeared from it. 

“Regina?” 

“Mmm?” Regina answered. “What is it?” 

“I’m...” Emma bit her lip. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yes,” Regina said simply. But there seemed to be a lot of meaning in that one word..

When they reached the tube that had brought Emma into the labyrinth in the first place, Regina gently sat Emma on her feet and looked up the narrow tube. “Hmm.” 

“God,” Emma mumbled because she had no idea how she was supposed to get back to Regina’s lair. The tube seemed even more narrow from this angle, and the idea that Regina was thin enough to wiggle through it made her feel all kinds of uncomfortable. 

Regina frowned softly as her head emerged from the tube again. “There is no way you will be able to climb through this tube with an injured knee.” It was a statement. She was not blaming Emma in any way. 

“Is there another way back?” Emma asked hopeful. With so many passages, there could be another way back, right? 

“No, I’m afraid not,” Regina said, thereby punctuating Emma’s hope. “But fret not, my dear.” She unhooked her feathery cloak and draped it over Emma’s shoulder, hooking it at the front. “There. Take care of this for me for a moment.” She brushed a hand over the dress she was wearing. Red. Silk. Sleeveless and coming all the way down to her ankles. It was tightly fitted, like glued to Regina’s olive skin, and it made Emma’s heart thump just a little faster once more. 

“Stay put,” Regina said, bringing Emma out of her ‘trance’. She blinked and snapped out of it when she saw Regina climb inside the tube and without much further ado started to wiggle her way up the tube, dress and all. Emma had no idea how Regina managed in her long dress and high heels. The inside of the slide/tube was pretty smooth, and there weren’t many places you could grab onto. 

“Shit,” Regina cursed from inside the tube, and Emma walked closer and poked her head inside. Regina was already halfway up. As agile and elegant as a panther, Emma thought. 

“Are you alright?” she asked carefully. 

“Perfectly fine,” came Regina’s slightly strained reply. “Just stay put.”

“Okay.” Truthfully, there wasn’t much else Emma could do. She knew with a hundred percent certainty that she would not be able to scale the inside of the tube. With or without an injured knee. Sliding down was one thing, she had managed that (and injured herself in the process), but climbing up through the tube? No way. 

She absentmindedly brushed a hand over the feathery cloak Regina had just draped over her shoulders. It was lovely and warm. Emma had started to feel quite cold in just her thin white dress. She had never worn Regina’s cloak before. Regina had never draped it around her shoulders like just now. It was so difficult for her not to take the gesture for more than it was, and she had to remind herself of what Regina had said. That she couldn’t not give Emma what she was seeking. She did not return Emma’s feelings. And Emma had to accept that somehow. She would grow to accept it, she had to. Being in Regina’s life as her friend and protégé was better than most things. 

After another moment of incoherent mutterings from inside the tube, Emma heard a sound that could only mean that Regina had climbed through the tube. “There we go.” she mumbled something that could very well have been another curse, though Emma wasn’t sure, and then: “give me a moment, and I’ll make sure you get up from there, Little Swan.”

Emma patiently waited and completely trusted Regina. She curiously cocked her head to the side when she heard Regina shuffle about with something in the lair. Then, a moment later, another rope was thrown into the tube. It brushed against the floor, and Emma’s heart sank. She wasn’t so sure that her knee could handle another climb up a rope. “Regina?” she quietly called.

“Yes?” 

“I... I don’t think I can, err, climb,” Emma said halfheartedly and felt slightly angry with herself. Why did she have to hurt her knee this badly? Why was she always so goddamn delicate when it came to.... well... Anything?!

“You don’t have to,” Regina said, and her voice was surprisingly soft. “Just hold on to the rope and let me do the rest.” 

“You can’t pull me up!” Emma protested, easily deducing what Regina was planning on doing. “I’m too heavy!”

Regina snorted. “You weigh the same as a feather, dear. Now be a good girl and grab on to the rope. Now.” 

Protesting was useless. Emma went over there and grabbed onto the edge of the rope. Perhaps she wasn’t able to climb up the rope, but she did want to make things a little easier. She bit back a wince or two as she wrapped her legs around the rope. Surely, it would make things easier for Regina if her weight was a bit more evenly distributed and if she didn’t simply hung at the end of the rope like a bag of potatoes.

“Ready?” Regina asked. 

“Yes.”

“Alright. Hold on tight,” Regina instructed. 

Emma did so, and it did not take long before she felt the floor disappear under her feet. She was being hoisted up through the tube, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly in awe over Regina’s strength. 

This was not the same as when Emma pulled Regina up from the roof. Regina had helped her along by placing her feet in the right places, but Emma was just hanging there. Lumpy and heavy. 

But Regina was not even panting or groaning and the way in which she hoisted Emma up through the tube was smooth and steady. She wasn’t struggling remotely with pulling Emma up through the tube. 

And not too long after, Emma could poke her head through the hole in the throne and look into the lair. 

“Welcome back,” Regina quipped as she helped Emma out of the hole. 

“Thank you.” Emma brushed a hand through her hair and looked around in the lair. It still looked bare and almost rough without the lit candles and Regina’s belongings, but it still felt way more homely   
now when Regina was back. The lair of music had gotten back its heart and soul, and that made Emma feel warm on the inside. 

“You need to get that knee patched up,” Regina commented as she glanced at the bloody patch on Emma’s skirt. “You still have your first aid-kit, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Emma nodded. She most certainly did. And now she was very happy about that. And she found it a bit funny that she had claimed that she would never need it when her mother insisted upon packing it for her. Her ever sensible mother. She had been more right than she ever could have imagined. 

“Good. Then we should return to your room.” 

“You’re going with me?” Emma asked and could not stop the smile from blossoming on her face Moments spent in Regina’s company always made her feel giddy.

“Yes. For a moment,” Regina replied. “But then I’ll have to go back and get this place back to normal. It does look a bit sad right now.”

“Well...” Emma didn’t want to be rude, but she had to admit that she agreed with that statement. The lair did indeed look a bit sad. 

Regina snickered slightly at Emma’s telltale silence. “Come,” she said after a moment of amusement. “Let’s get back before someone starts missing you.” She grabbed Emma’s arm and hoisted it up over her shoulder to support Emma once again. And then they walked towards the exit of the lair. 

Emma liked having her arm draped around Regina’s neck, but she couldn’t help but notice that Regina hadn’t held her hand at all. It could of course be a coincidence, but it did feel like it was a deliberate act on Regina’s behalf. And Emma definitely did not like that. But she thought she knew why Regina hadn’t held her hand. It was because Emma had confessed her feelings. It had to be. 

Emma didn’t regret confessing her feelings to Regina. But she so hoped that things would not turn awkward between them. That would be terrible. Though she could see why things would turn awkward. She couldn’t help feeling how she felt. Regina didn’t feel the same. That was exactly how things turned awkward. 

But Emma was determined not to make things awkward. She would... she would push through this. Get over it and stop feeling the way she felt. 

Ha. And just how was she supposed to do that? She had been harboring feelings for Regina for months and months, and there was no signs that her feelings were subsiding. Not even a little bit. She couldn’t just ‘get over it’. Couldn’t just switch off her feelings just like that. It wasn’t that easy. 

But she would try. She really, really would. Because she had to. Because she didn’t want to make things awkward...

It didn’t take long before they reached Emma’s room. While Emma hobbled into the bathroom to find the first-aid kit, Regina pushed the mirror back in place where it belonged. When Emma returned to the bedroom, Regina was sitting on the edge of her bed. She looked as delightfully out of place and equally as much as she belonged there as the last time she had been here. Emma liked having Regina in her room. More than she should. But she didn’t feel the least bit sorry about that.

Regina didn’t say anything as Emma sat down next to her on the bed and opened the first-aid kit. Emma had removed her stockings in the bathroom and was currently soaking them in soap and cold water in the hopes of rinsing the blood away. Now she found the spray-bottle of disinfectant liquid, wipes and plasters in the little first-aid box. 

“You’re very throughout,” Regina commented as Emma carefully lifted the hem of her dress to expose her knee. 

“I try to be,” Emma replied and winced upon looking at her knee. It looked pretty bad. Bloody. The gash was deeper than what she had expected, but there wasn’t any dirt in the wound. That was good. It just needed to be patched up. Then she would be as good as new. Though she would probably have a large bruise there tomorrow. She picked up the disinfectant spray and sprayed two poofs of the liquid onto one of the wipes. She was about to use the wipe to pat her knee, but Regina was faster than her. She took the wipe from Emma with the words: “allow me. I think it’s the least I can do.”

“You don’t have to,” Emma said automatically. 

“I insist,” Regina said simply. “This is probably going to sting a bit.”

“That’s alright.” Emma took a deep breath and braced herself. But she still ended up wincing when Regina patted her knee with the wipe. It hurt. Stung. But that was alright. It was important to get the wound properly disinfected. 

“What a mess,” Regina commented. “I would tell you not to jump down tubes, but..”

“I had to,” Emma gently reminded her.

“Yes. But it will not be required again.”

“I’d do it again,” Emma vowed. “If I had to, I would.”

“I’m aware,” Regina said, shaking her head slightly and pushing her dark hair away from her right shoulder with her free hand. She continued to dab Emma’s damaged knee with the wipe, and Emma absentmindedly picked at the feathers on the cloak while trying not to look at Regina’s face. She really had to stop that. Her gaze wandered, and she ended up looking at Regina’s bare shoulder. Olive skin on display. But not just that. She had not noticed it before, but now that Regina was wearing a sleeveless dress, and her shoulder was so close, Emma noticed the faded, red marks on Regina’s shoulder, and before she could stop herself, she had ended up blurting: “What is that?” 

“What?” Regina lifted her head and frowned slightly. Twisted her neck slightly so she could look at her shoulder too. “Oh.” She shook her head, making her dark hair tumble back over her shoulder and hiding the marks. “That’s just...” she trailed off and looked questioningly at Emma. “Did you not read Christine’s diary?” she glanced down at said little book which was still laying on Emma’s bed where she had left it earlier.

“Most of it,” Emma said. “I skipped the... personal parts.” She blushed and congratulated herself with her decision of not reading Christine’s detailed descriptions of her and Regina’s most private moments. That was not Emma’s business. 

“Oh. How very tactful of you,” Regina said and put down the wipe, taking the roll of plaster instead. “But if you had read those parts, you would know what the marks are.”

“What are they?” Emma asked quietly. 

Regina sighed. “You do not want to know.”

“Did you make them?” Emma murmured. It seemed like a fairly plausible question when knowing that Regina had harmed herself before. 

“No,” Regina said tonelessly as she ripped off one of the plasters and placed it over the wound on Emma’s knee. “My mother was a firm believer of corporal punishment. They are lash marks.”

“God,” Emma said thickly and swallowed. Lash marks. To imagine that Regina’s own mother had exposed her to that kind of abuse was gut wrenching and made Emma’s stomach twist painfully. “I’m so sorry, Regina.”

“It is many years ago now, Little Swan,” Regina said softly, now smoothening the plaster on Emma’s knee to make sure it sat tight. “I have all but forgotten it.”

“How could anyone ever forget something like that?” Emma mused aloud. 

“Because they have to, Little Songbird. You’d be surprised at what people are capable of forgetting in order to survive,” Regina murmured, moving her hand away from Emma’s knee. “There we are. I do believe your knee is all patched up now.”

Emma inspected her knee. Yes, the plaster was indeed sitting neatly over the wound on her knee. Any trace of blood was gone, and Emma was certain that it hurt less. “Thank you,” she said, spontaneously reaching out and taking Regina’s hand to show how grateful she was. 

“You’re welcome,” Regina said a tad stiffly, and she flinched slightly too. 

A new wave of heat rose in Emma’s cheeks, but this time it had nothing to do with warm feelings. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, quickly releasing Regina’s hand again. 

Regina frowned slightly behind the mask. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I’m... you don’t... feel like that,” Emma’s throat felt dry, and she tried not to let the disappointment overwhelm her. “About... me.”

Regina’s mouth twisted slightly, and she picked at her skirt with her long fingers. “Look, it is not-“

“Hello? Emma? You in there?” 

Emma flinched and gasped as she heard Ruby’s voice just outside her door. What did she want? Why was she coming now? 

There was a knock on the door, and to Emma, the sound was quite demanding. So was Ruby’s voice when she said: “Emma! Are you there? I’m coming in!” 

Emma’s heart nearly leapt into her throat. The door was not locked. She had forgotten that in her haste to get to Regina before she could do something terrible to herself. And now Ruby had said that she was coming in! Emma opened her mouth to say that Ruby could not come in, but instead of doing so, she was startled a second time, when Regina leapt off the bed and as fast as lightening, laid down on the floor and then disappearing under Emma’s bed, pulling the feather cloak with her. 

Emma finally got moving and tugged her bedspread down to cover the tiny space between her bed and the floor. She didn’t exactly expect Ruby to look under her bed, but just in case. Then she pushed her skirt down to cover her plastered knee, hid the first-aid box behind her pillow and managed to grab a book and place it in her lap right before the door opened and Ruby stepped inside. 

“Hi,” Emma said and hoped that she sounded both innocent and surprised. 

“Oh, so you ARE here,” Ruby said, and Emma noted that her voice sounded a bit tight. Like she was on edge or something. 

“Of course,” Emma said. Now not feigning surprise. “Where else would I be?” 

“Good question, actually,” Ruby said, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked at Emma. “’Cause I came round to check up on you twenty minutes ago, and you weren’t here.” 

Emma’s palms damped. “Oh. I was in the library. Did you want to talk about something important?” 

“No,” Ruby said slowly. “Just wondering how you were feeling. I mean, you did take off pretty quickly earlier.” 

Emma shrugged. “It’s been some weird days.”

“Yes,” Ruby agreed, voice still tight. “And you’re being weird right now.”

Emma blinked. “What are you talking about?” she asked and shifted discreetly so that her thigh was covering Christine’s diary which was still laying on the bed. 

“I looked for you at the library,” Ruby said, flicking a streak of red hair back over her shoulder. “And you weren’t there.” 

“Maybe you went after I came back to my room?” Emma suggested. 

“And maybe you weren’t at the library at all,” Ruby said tightly. 

“What are you talking about? Of course I was. I needed to get away from the canteen and all the tension. That’s why I took off so quickly,” Emma said and dug her blunt fingernails into her palm. This was a   
dangerous conversation. “I needed to be by myself for a while. I’m sorry you understand that.”

“I could,” Ruby said, folding her arms across her chest. “If you sounded a bit more believable. But the thing is... You don’t. You sound rushed and pitchy.” 

Emma’s heart thumped uncomfortably, but she had no choice but to keep the façade going. “What exactly are you implying?” she asked and hoped that she sounded confused rather than vexed. 

Ruby answered the question with another: “where have you been?” she asked plainly. 

“At the library. And here, reading my book,” Emma dismissed. “I don’t understand why you keep asking me, Ruby. I needed to be by myself for a while. I felt stressed and pressured over being in the canteen and listening to everybody talking about one thing only. It was too much, and I needed to get away.” God, why was it that Ruby had decided to check up on her? If only she hadn’t! She could spill her theories in the canteen, but when she came to Emma’s room to do it, it was dangerous. And especially when Regina happened to be hiding under Emma’s bed. 

Emma shifted and tried not to look too uncomfortable. She couldn’t let Ruby know what was going on in her mind. She just couldn’t. The most important thing was to make Ruby leave her room. She didn’t even have to believe Emma. She just had to leave. Now.

“Okay,” Ruby said slowly in that same dry tone suggesting that she felt like Emma was serving her a load of crap. “Who were you talking to then?”

“I- what?” now Emma was definitely uncomfortable. She tried not to stutter or trip over the words as she continued: “who was I talking to when?” 

“Just now. Before I came in here,” Ruby replied, jaw set and body radiating with tension. “I heard voices outside your room. Yours. And someone else. Who was that?”

“Nobody!” Emma snapped. She had to think fast. And LIE fast. “Or.. Me, I suppose. I was reading aloud from the book, and sometimes I like to change my voice to keep it more authentic.” 

“Oh, come on, Emma!” Ruby scoffed. “Do you think I’m an idiot or what? I know your voice! I know how you sound. And the person talking a moment ago wasn’t you. I HEARD someone in here...” 

“And who would that be?” Emma asked exasperated. 

“I don’t know. You tell me!”

“Seriously?!” Emma surprised herself by sounding more annoyed and confrontational than she ever had before. She knew she should stay calm, but she could not. The intense pressure she had been put under first by chasing after Regina and finding her before it was too late and now Ruby’s little ‘interrogation’ was just too much, and she lashed out at the older girl even though it probably was not the best strategy. “Look around! There’s nobody in here! Who should that even be? Who should I be talking to?! I don’t know exactly WHAT you’re implying, but I don’t wanna listen to it!”

“Emma-“ 

“No!” Emma interrupted, snapping the book in her lap shut with a sharp clicking sound. “First you jump down my throat because I hum a piece of a goddamn song I don’t even remember where I heard, and now you’re interrogating me because I felt shaken up and needed a moment to read aloud to myself in order to feel better?! God, Ruby! Stop being so goddamn paranoid about everything! You don’t have the right to just come marching in here and interrogate me like you’re the police! It’s none of your business where I am or what I’m doing, so just leave me alone!” God, where did she get all of this from? Emma had never blown up on anyone in her life. Not even at her parents. And she couldn’t quite believe that she had just said all of this to Ruby of all people. 

Ruby’s face had paled considerably, and she looked partially wounded, partially impressed that Emma had ‘that’ in her. “Careful, Emma,” she said quietly. “You’re starting to sound a lot like Christine.” 

“Well, guess what?” Emma hissed. “I am NOT Christine, Ruby! I didn’t even know her. But I do know that you’re being completely unreasonable right now. Just because you think that something is going on in the opera house doesn’t give you the right to come in here and ask me all sorts of unreasonable questions.”

“I’m trying to find out the truth!” Ruby spat. “About what’s going on in this freakish place, and you CLEARLY know something! I know you do, so why can’t you just-“

“I saw him fall!” Emma heard herself say very, very loudly. “I saw him fall, okay?!”

Ruby pulled back a little. “What?”

“Bouquet,” Emma croaked with a head that was now spinning. “I saw him fall from the bridge! I saw him stumble and accidentally get a rope wrapped around his neck. I was about to warn him, but it all happened so quickly! One minute he was standing on the bridge, and the next, he fell! There was nothing I could do to prevent it!” she drew in a breath. Her heart was pounding. Where... Where did she get this? How had she all the sudden come up with such an extensive lie? She did not know. And the idea of lying about this hadn’t even crossed her mind until now. Because Ruby had been so determined to find out the truth. Because Ruby did not believe that Bouquet’s fall from the bridge had been an accident. What it needed in order to be an accident was a witness. A reliable witness. Nobody would ever suspect a wallflower like Emma of lying. Not even Ruby. 

“That’s why I left,” Emma continued, struggling to sound quiet and vulnerable. “All of you were talking about it, and I felt so guilty because... Well, maybe if I had yelled to Bouquet, he wouldn’t have fallen. B-but I was afraid of interrupting the rehearsal, so I didn’t. And now he’s d-dead.” There. Now she was implicated in this. She was a witness. One that could proof that Bouquet’s accident had in fact been just that. A tragic accident. 

“You saw him fall?” Ruby said, now she was quiet too. “Have you told Malena or Mr. Gold that?” 

Emma shook her head. “No, not yet. But I’m going to.” She was. If she officially came forward and told that she was a witness to Bouquet’s accident, everyone would stop speculating. And Regina would be safe yet again. Nobody would ever suspect foul play if Emma came forward and acted a shield between Regina and the higher authorities. No one would question how trustworthy she was. That was one of the perks of being a wallflower. 

“I didn’t know that,” Ruby said quietly and gave Emma a long look. “You never said that.”

“I felt guilty,” Emma repeated, stunned at how believable she sounded. “I felt like that maybe if I had said something, he wouldn’t have fallen.” 

“Hey,” Ruby said softly, coming more into the room and reaching out as to put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “This is not your fault, Emma.” 

Emma settled for a shrug. “Can’t you please just leave? I’d like to be alone.” 

Ruby immediately pulled her hand back, and Emma felt a stab of guilt when seeing how guilty RUBY looked. It was all wrong. Ruby had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. Emma was the liar. She was the one who deserved to feel guilty. But what other choices did she have? Lying was the only possibility. She had to act as a shield between Regina and the higher authorities. She had to make sure that no one was suspecting that Bouquet’s fall wasn’t an accident. And if she could only do that by lying, then so be it! 

“Okay,” Ruby said quietly. “I’ll go. But I think you should tell Mal or Mr. Gold about this as soon as possible.” 

“I will.”

“And I’m sorry, okay?” Ruby continued. “So much weird shit’s been happening, and I guess I just... went overboard for a moment there.” 

“Yeah. I guess you did.” 

“See you around?” 

“Mmm. See you around,” Emma automatically repeated and shifted slightly on the bed, discreetly making sure that the space between the bed and floor still was covered by the bedspread.   
With one last look at Emma, Ruby left her room and closed the door behind her. Emma’s shoulders fell down, and she exhaled sharply. She had never lied as much in her entire life than what she had done just know, and she honestly couldn’t believe that she had gotten away with it. Because she was sure she had. She was sure that Ruby believed her. She HAD to. 

After a moment, in which they probably both wanted to be sure that Ruby was truly gone, Regina emerged from underneath Emma’s bed. Her curls was in disarray, and she hastily ran her fingers through them as she rose to her full height and looked down at Emma. Her mouth twisted ever so slightly. 

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. “I didn’t know she would come in here. I wish it hadn’t been necessary for you to-” she gestured vaguely to underneath the bed. 

“First you risk life, limbs and mobility to come up to the roof to save me, and then you lie this severely for me,” Regina said, ignoring Emma’s statement. 

“Yes,” Emma said with something that was supposed to be a shrug. “It was necessary.” 

Regina’s jaw tightened slightly. “Are you going to tell your teacher that you saw Bouquet fall?” 

“Yes,” Emma said immediately. “You have to admit that’s a good plan. Ruby will stop asking questions and Malena will believe me. She doesn’t have any reason NOT to. I can actually see right up to the bridge from my position in the choir, so it wouldn’t have been impossible for me to see if Bouquet really had fallen. And I have never lied to Malena before. I doubt she’ll reach the conclusion that I have suddenly started now. And-” she drew in a breath before continuing: “people will stop looking. Ruby will stop looking. Nobody will think that someone else was involved in Bouquet’s death if it becomes known that I saw the accident happen.” The plan was solid. Impenetrable. Entirely plausible. And people would leave her alone. Everyone would think that she was shaken up and would respectfully keep their distance, which was perfect. She would avoid any questions. 

“We’re playing a dangerous game,” Regina said dully. “You do realize that, don’t you?” 

“Yes. But she didn’t give me any other choice,” Emma replied. “It was the only thing I could do.” 

Regina sighed. “You should not be lying on my behalf. I’ve never wanted that.” 

“You did not ask me to,” Emma reminded her. “I did it because I wanted to.”

“You did it because you HAD to,” Regina corrected. 

“You’re right, I did have to,” Emma agreed. “I couldn’t just tell her the truth could I? That Bouquet didn’t fall accidentally and that you were in the room?” she scoffed. “No way! You think I’m interested in seeing you getting captured? I’d rather lie until my tongue wilder and dies!”

Regina sighed. “I should go. I have a lair that needs sprucing up. And I can imagine that you have things to do too.” with that she turned around and walked towards the mirror. 

Emma got up from the bed and followed her. Not to go back to the lair with her (unfortunately) but merely to bid her goodbye. And check: “will I see you tonight?” 

“You know where I live,” Regina said lightly and pushed the mirror open. She took a step towards the hidden hole behind the mirror, but just as she was about to walk through it and disappear, she seemingly changed her mind and turned her head. “One more thing,” she said slowly, dark eyes almost burning as she looked at Emma. “I told you that I could not give you what you seek. But I did not say that the reason is because I do not reciprocate your feelings. I cannot give you what you seek because I am trying to protect you. Because you deserve the world. Big, bright, colorful as it is. And my world is very small and very grey. You are worthy of far more than that. And I am most certainly unworthy of YOU.” 

Then she walked through the mirror and disappeared before Emma could do as much as blink. 

To Be Continued...........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this is not the last we've heard of Ruby and her suspicions! That will become relevant again.


	43. Sunburst of Music

‘I told you that I could not give you what you seek. But I did not say that the reason is because I do not reciprocate your feelings. I cannot give you what you seek because I am trying to protect you. Because you deserve the world. Big, bright, colorful as it is. And my world is very small and very grey. You are worthy of far more than that. And I am most certainly unworthy of YOU.’

Those words kept rummaging in Emma’s mind. In fact she could not stop thinking about it. Regina reciprocated her feelings. She felt the same way. But as warm as that made Emma feel, she knew that it did not make things rosy. Regina felt like she was unworthy of Emma’s affection, and Emma wasn’t quite sure what she could say to make Regina believe that she was. That she could and should allow herself to feel the way she felt. Without fear. Emma did not want to push Regina into anything, and waiting and hoping that Regina would come to realize that she was worthy seemed to be the best strategy. 

Meanwhile, Emma followed through with her decision. She knew that she was deliberately putting herself in the spotlight, but that was better than having the entire opera house speculating that Joseph Bouquet’s fall was not an accident. She had to ‘de-mystify’ the incident and then pray that her story was believable. If it was, she could get away with lying. Get away with keeping Regina out of the crossfire. But if it was not, the whole thing could blow up in her face. But that was a risk she had to take. She just had to believe that nobody would suspect the innocent wallflower of lying.

A couple of hours after Regina had left her room, Emma too emerged. She held her head high as she wandered up the many staircases towards Mr. Gold’s office. She found it best to inform the highest authority. Mr. Gold certainly was that. And he did not know her as well as Malena did. Therefore it would be harder for him to know that she was lying. She hoped. Mr. Gold was smart, but she hoped to be smarter. God, she actually had plans about outsmarting the highest authority in the opera house. Who was she, and what had she done with Emma Swan?

She straightened her back and took a deep breath to calm herself a little as she stood outside Mr. Gold’s office and tried to muster up the courage to go in there. The heavy oak tree door seemed intimidating. As did the little round bronze sign on the door. In curved golden letters was written: ‘Alexander D. Gold.’ She briefly wondered what the ‘D’ was standing for, but then she remembered that she had not come all the up here to wonder about things that did not matter. She pulled herself together, straightened her posture and then knocked on the door. Too loudly. She cringed at the way the sound seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet hallway. 

“Come in,” came Mr. Gold’s voice through the closed door. 

With a heart that seemed to pump way too quickly in her chest, Emma carefully pushed the door open and went inside. 

Mr. Gold was sitting in a tall chair behind a stuffy, shiny mahogany desk. His cane stood leaned against the wall behind the desk. The wine-red walls were covered in diplomas showing off the prestigious university Mr. Gold had graduated from, and framed photography’s of important looking men exchanging handshakes. But there was only a single picture on his desk. Framed in silver and pointing towards Mr. Gold to keep the motive private. 

“Miss Swan,” Mr. Gold said pleasantly, grabbing for his cane and standing from the chair with some trouble. He was wearing a pearly grey suit with a matching tie, a snow-white button up underneath, and golden cufflinks on his sleeves. His grey hair neatly brushed and still reaching the collar of his crisp button up. “Do come in,” he said politely, gripping the cane with one hand and extending the other one out towards Emma. 

Emma shook his hand once and immediately apologized: “I’m sorry for coming here like this, Mr. Gold.”

“No apology required, miss Swan. My office is open to everyone, students or staff. Take a seat,” he said, smiling as he gestured towards another chair. 

“Thank you.” Emma sat down and waited patiently as he did the same. His face contorted in pain and he grunted slightly as he positioned himself on the chair. “Damn leg. Well, miss Swan, can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?” 

“No, thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“Very well then. Is there anything else I can do for you?” he released the grip on his cane and folded his long fingers under his chin. His grey eyebrows arched slightly above his brown eyes as he looked attentively at Emma. 

Emma took a breath as to prepare herself to lie. “It is about Monsieur Bouquet,” she murmured. 

“Ah. What happened to him is shocking,” Mr. Gold said, bowing his head slightly. “And perhaps even more so because the choir was present when it happened. Terrible business. Absolutely terrible.”

“Yes,” Emma said and wetted her lips. Now came the tricky part. “I don’t know if you have heard it, but there are some... rumors going around the opera house. Regarding his death.”

“Oh yes, those rumors have reached my office too, Miss Swan,” Mr. Gold said and nodded. “I’m afraid the Opera Garnier have been cloaked in rumors for quite a while. I heard the first whispers when poor   
Miss Daaé was found in the underground lake, and I am not surprised that the rumors are swirling yet again. When something like this happens, sudden death, people tend to look for someone to blame for it. As a way of coping. It is unfortunate, but not unexpected.” He leaned forward. “But I can assure you, Miss Swan, no matter what you have heard, there is not an ounce of truth in these rumors. Perhaps they have gained new life because of a prank taken too far and Monsieur Bouquet’s fall, but we cannot blame ghosts or ‘phantoms’ for accidents.”

“I don’t think that the rumors are true either,” Emma said, relieved at how easy this was. “That is now why I am here. I’m here because I saw him fall.”

Mr. Gold leaned back in his chair, surprise etched onto his face. “You saw Monsieur Bouquet fall?” 

“Yes, Mr. Gold.”

“I see,” the owner of Opera Garnier murmured, and Emma saw a hint of sympathy in his brown eyes. “What a traumatic thing to witness, Miss Swan. I would not ask you to relive it if it did not have the utmost importance, but... it is very important for us to know exactly how he could fall, so do you think it would be possible for you to explain it to me? In your own time, of course. I do not want to pressure you.”

Next part of the lie. Emma took another breath and then spoke: “Malena was instructing Ruby, and I guess I got a little bored and started looking around instead of paying attention-“ she paused and made sure to look appropriately sheepish. 

Mr. Gold flashed her a kind smile. “That is perfectly understandable. Go on.” 

“And then- I don’t even know why- I ended up glancing towards the bridge and spotted Monsieur Bouquet. I kept looking because he was sort of swaying up there, and I thought to myself that maybe he wasn’t feeling well...” Emma took another pause, now feigning being too polite to suggest that Bouquet had been drunk. 

“I understand what you mean, miss Swan,” Mr. Gold said simply. “Continue.” 

“He started to fiddle with a rope he had up there,” Emma continued her lie. “I’m not sure what he was doing, maybe he tried to figure out how he should tie or something like that. Then he laid it around   
his neck because he had to carry some of his tools, I guess he needed his hands free, and then he attempted to tie it to something-“ she paused and swallowed her guilt. “Then he stumbled and f-fell. It all happened so quickly, and I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. One moment he was standing up there working, and the next he fell from the bridge with the rope around his neck. Oh god, if I had s-said something, warned him, he wouldn’t have fallen!” her voice was high pitched. Hysterical. She sounded devastated, and once again, she got scared of how eerily good she had become at lying.”

“My goodness,” Mr. Gold said quietly. “He must accidentally have pulled at the rope as he fell and ended up tightening it around his neck. Poor chap.” He leaned forward and patted Emma’s shoulder lightly. “Miss Swan do not blame yourself for this. It is not your fault. How could you possibly have known that he would fall?”

He believed her. Really believed her. Emma could hear that. And she was relieved. Thank god he believed her! She hoped that if Mr. Gold believed her, so would everybody else. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you immediately, but I was just so shocked and didn’t know what to do with myself,” she whispered. “I kept thinking that I could have done something or said something or-“

“Miss Swan,” Mr. Gold interrupted kindly. “You’ve suffered a trauma, and you have to let go of your guilt. What happened to Monsieur Bouquet was tragic, but in no way your fault.”

Emma drew in a breath. “Thank you, Mr. Gold. I know that there are so many rumors going around. Some of the other choir-members are scared, and I don’t want them to go around and think that someone did something to Monsieur Bouquet. That’s why I came here today.”

“You have made the right decision in coming here, Miss Swan,” Mr. Gold smiled. “You are very considerate and a good friend to your fellow choir-members. This will indeed make the rumors stop, and I thank you for that. We’ve had enough tragedies here in the opera house. We do not need the rumors of a ‘phantom’.”

“No, we do not,” Emma said and had to bite her tongue not to reveal exactly what kind of man Joseph Bouquet had been. A killer. The person who had murdered Christine Daaé and then hid her away for three days until cruelly placing her in an underground lake. What kind of person did that? 

A heartless one. A monster. 

“I will inform the teachers of this,” Mr. Gold said, straining slightly as he rose from his chair and reached for his cane. “You have been most helpful, Miss Swan, and I thank you for coming forward with this information.” He walked around the desk with his cane tapping lightly against the floor. “This information I’m about to tell you is not to reach anybody else,” he said, looking at Emma. “But I trust you can be discreet?”

“Of course,” Emma said. She most certainly knew how to be discreet. 

“Monsieur Bouquet had a good amount of alcohol in his blood at the time of his death,” Mr. Gold told her. “And that does tie in well with your explanation of how he tripped.” He shook his head, repeated: “Poor chap. I should have demanded that he got help instead of giving him a job.”

“You were only trying to help him, Mr. Gold,” Emma said politely. “A good deed can never be done too often.”

Mr. Gold smiled at her. “And you’ve done a good deed today, Miss Swan. However painful it undoubtedly was to relive the incident, I appreciate that you did it. Because you’re quite right. Whispers and rumors about someone being responsible for his death does not help the matter at all. You’re a good friend to your class-mates.”

Emma bowed her head in pretend gratitude and did her best to hide her guilty conscience. She had never fabricated a lie that was half as convincing as this one before, but it was for a greater good, was it not? She was certain that she had just removed Regina from the spotlight by bringing herself into it. But Mr. Gold believed her. She was sure of that. And others would follow his example. She was sure of that too. He was sensible and well liked, and she kept her fingers crossed that Malena too would believe that Bouquet’s death had happened because of an accident. She and Ruby would be the hardest ones to convince. Ruby because of her past friendship with Christine and her firm belief that the Phantom of the Opera had something to do with it. And Malena because she had received the note from Regina and had turned out to believe in the Phantom of the Opera. But Mr. Gold was the owner of Opera Garnier. Not Malena. And Mr. Gold’s word was law. If he believed, there was no reason why others should not. Malena would never go against Mr. Gold. She respected him too much to do that. At least Emma hoped so.

She left the office with Mr. Gold, and when he bid her farewell to head into Malena’s office, she continued downstairs towards the common room alone. Her plan had worked. At least it seemed like it. Mr. Gold believed her. She had managed to get the owner of the opera house to believe her story. That was a victory. But god, she hoped that this wouldn’t blow up in her face! Because Regina was right. This WAS a dangerous game to play. And if she did not play her cards right, she would be the one to loose this game. And Regina. She was the one who had the most to lose.

Emma’s knee pained slightly as she continued down the stairs. A reminder of earlier. But at least her knee had stopped bleeding. The plaster covering the wound was making sure of that. Emma tried not to think too much of how soft Regina’s fingers had been when she gently disinfected and bandaged the wound for Emma. 

But she could not stop thinking about what Regina had said right before she left. 

‘I told you that I could not give you what you seek. But I did not say that the reason is because I do not reciprocate your feelings. I cannot give you what you seek because I am trying to protect you. Because you deserve the world. Big, bright, colorful as it is. And my world is very small and very grey. You are worthy of far more than that. And I am most certainly unworthy of YOU.’

The thought of Regina feeling like she was unworthy of affection made Emma want to weep because she had never met anyone more worthy of affection than Regina was. But how was she supposed to convince Regina of this? What could she say that would make Regina realize that she WAS worthy of affection. Emma’s affection. Emma wanted nothing more than to give Regina affection. But only if Regina wanted it. Only she was willing to accept it. 

Emma was tired. And there was nothing that she wanted more than to head back to her room and sleep for a few hours. The emotional moments with Regina on the roof had completely drained her, and she really needed to sleep. 

But she could not. She knew this. She had to head down to the common room and show her face. Otherwise Ruby would grow suspicious of her again. And that was the last thing Emma needed right now. She had already made Ruby plenty suspicious by blowing up on her earlier. Emma normally never blew up on ANYONE. There had been a time where the mere thought of loosing her temper with an older student would have horrified her, but today she simply told herself that it absolutely could not happen again. She had to keep her cool. No matter how many questions Ruby was asking her. Keeping her cool was essential. Otherwise Ruby would REALLY start to suspect her of doing something she was not supposed to. Getting angry was a defensive mechanism used when someone felt guilty, Emma had learned from all her crime books. And she was determined not to make the same mistakes as the characters in her book had. She had to be better than that. She had to be so smart, not even Hercule Poirot could look through her and reveal that she was lying. 

Emma’s shoulders dropped. She supposed she was a bit of a ‘villain’ for sneaking around and lying like this. But she did not have any other choice. She had to act as Regina’s shield. Had to make sure that she could stay hidden in the opera house. 

Once again, Emma came to think of the future. Was Regina planning on staying in the opera house forever? She had been willing to leave once. With Christine. Perhaps she would be willing to leave again. 

With Emma. 

Emma bit her lip. She was not going to remain in the opera house forever. Three years at most. She still wanted a career here at the Opera Garnier but working in the choir did not mean that she had to keep living here. She could get an apartment somewhere in Paris. Just a small one. But still one that was big enough for two. Maybe, just maybe.... Regina could move with her. Get away from the lair in the opera house. She could get a proper home at last. 

Emma shook her head. She was dreaming, of course she was. Her parents wouldn’t be thrilled if she announced that she was going to live permanently in Paris, and it wasn’t like she could just introduce Regina to them when they stopped by. An older woman Emma never had spoken of earlier? No, that wasn’t gonna fly with them. And one way or the other, Regina would once again be forced to hide. 

She sighed slightly. If only there was something she could do. Some way to make sure that Regina never would have to hide again. It was not fair that she had to creep about in the night and only allow herself one meal a day. It wasn’t fair that she had to live like this. Not the slightest bit fair at all...

When Emma arrived in the common room, the place was full of stone faces. And Emma soon found out why.

“Elsa and Anna’s parents had them transferred to the choir at Opéra Bastille,” Lily whispered. “They didn’t feel comfortable with having them here.”

Emma swallowed when she acknowledged how serious that was. Parents pulling their kids out of the opera house. That was bad. She would miss Anna and Elsa. But what was even more serious was that the choir had no understudy for Ruby anymore. With Elsa gone, Ruby truly was the only one to carry the choir through the concert. 

“I hope Elsa and Anna were the only ones to go,” Lily murmured. “It’s not fair to mum if everyone just disappears!”

“No, it’s not,” Emma agreed and felt terribly guilty. 

“Anyway, how are you feeling?” Lily asked and gave Emma’s arm a little squeeze. “You took off pretty quickly this morning.”

“Yeah, I know, I just... I had to get away from it all for a moment.”

“I get that,” Lily said sympathetically, giving Emma’s arm another slight squeeze. 

Emma tried not to squirm. She had to keep up the façade. 

Ruby who was sitting in a nearby chair turned her head and flashed Emma a smile. It was clear that she too felt guilty. 

Emma mustered a slight smile. She felt bad for blowing up at Ruby like she had, but she felt like it was required. Ruby had gotten too close. And she if got too close, she could expose Emma’s secret. And that was not something that could happen ever. She had to remember to always lock her door when Regina was in her room. And she had to create a bit of distance between herself and Ruby. At least for a while. To fly under the radar. Ruby would most likely think that Emma had gotten upset because of the interrogation, and even though it was cruel to let her think that was the case, Emma found that that was the best way to fly under the radar. Less contact with Ruby. She saw things too clearly. 

“Should we go and catch up on some homework or something?” Lily suggested. “I mean, since the lessons are banished and all that...”

Emma didn’t feel much like doing her homework, but it was better than just sitting around in a room full of worried students, was it not?  
Or maybe she should call her parents. Give them an updated version of Bouquet’s death. She had to lie to them too about having seen Bouquet fall. It was necessary if she wanted to make it seem believable.

She told Lily that she wanted to call her parents, but even before she could get a chance to stand from the chair, the door to the common room was opened and in stepped Mr. Gold followed by a tight-lipped Malena. 

“Hello everyone,” Mr. Gold greeted, leaning heavily against the cane in his hand. “May I have your attention, please? Thank you. I have come to give you an update about the current situation.”

Everyone immediately hushed up and looked at Mr. Gold. 

“The experts are now through with the preliminary examinations,” Mr. Gold said. “And they have concluded that Monsieur Bouquet’s death was an accident.”

Next to Emma, Ruby shifted some. Clearly on the brink of saying something, but was silenced by a mere gaze from Malena. 

“The bridge has been examined closely, and it showed obvious signs of decay,” Mr. Gold continued. “A problem which I as the owner should have been aware of, but unfortunately, I was not and as a result Monsieur Bouquet fell. This is indeed a tragic event, and my sympathy lies with poor Monsieur Bouquet and all of you who were present when it happened. The trauma is unimaginable.” He gripped his cane a little tighter and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Furthermore, it has come to my attention that a member of the choir unfortunately witnessed the entirety of Monsieur Bouquet’s accident.”

A shocked silence followed this statement, and then everyone started whispering to one another. Emma tried her best to look as shocked as everyone else, because she had realized that Mr. Gold was not going to reveal which member of the choir he was talking about. He was going to keep her anonymous and Emma couldn’t even begin to come up with words to describe how relieved she was about that. 

He was smart, Mr. Gold. He could effectively silence the rumors about someone being the cause of Bouquet’s death, AND keep her out of the spotlight. She hadn’t even thought about that she could be anonymous, but he had, and for that she was grateful. 

“Quiet please,” Malena said, mildly scolding everyone. 

“It has been brought to my attention that several rumors regarding how Monsieur Bouquet came to fall,” Mr. Gold calmly continued his announcement. “And that combined with the tasteless joke with the note you experienced, I do understand where these rumors are coming from, I truly do. But I am here to officially tell you that there is not an ounce of truth in these rumors. The member of the choir who witnessed Monsieur Bouquet’s fall saw no one on the bridge. Monsieur Bouquet was alone when he fell. Nothing, except for tragic circumstances caused his accident, and it is very important that you understand that.” His dark eyes rested on each member of the choir. “There are no ghosts in my opera house. Only tragic accidents and tasteless jokes, and rest assure that whoever wrote that note WILL be found and brought to justice.” He shifted again, winced slightly. “I have never liked being the one to scold, but I must remind each and everyone of you- especially the older students- to remember to choose your words carefully. This is a school, and every day you walk amongst students younger than yourself, and I will strongly advise you to not go around and spread rumors about a ghost and thereby scare people. Am I making myself clear?” 

He was not speaking in a harsh tone to them, but the message still went through loud and clear and everyone nodded and murmured: “yes, Mr. Gold.” 

“Good,” he said, flashing them a smile. “I am happy to hear that. I understand that we’re all going through a difficult time because of this, and the school’s therapist is always ready to talk to everyone who needs it, but the ghost stories is not helping anything. Now it is time to recover from this terrible incident. Not fabricate a ghost in the opera. That’ll be all, thank you.” 

And with that, he turned around and left. 

“Well, you heard Mr. Gold,” Malena said strictly. “No more talk of ghosts. Joseph Bouquet’s fall was an accident. End of story.”

Killian stuck a hand in the air. 

“Yes, Mr. Jones?” Malena said somewhat tiredly. 

“Who’s the student who saw Bouquet fall?”

Emma quietly gnashed her teeth. Trust Killian Jones to always ask the right question. Or in this case, wrong question. 

“That is irrelevant,” Malena said tightly. “Mr. Gold is keeping the person anonymous for a reason. But as I said, it does not matter who it is. The bottom line is that the witness could confirm that Monsieur   
Bouquet was alone when he fell. That is all that matters. Understood?” 

Killian nodded and did not have anything further to add. But Ruby was glancing discreetly at Emma who carefully avoided her gaze. 

“Well then,” Malena said almost briskly. “Now that you have been given Mr. Gold’s reassurance, I trust that the talk about this ‘ghost’ will cease at once. That would be all. You may go back to your previous activities. Tomorrow the rehearsals will commence.” And then she turned around and left too. 

She seemed vexed, Emma thought to herself. Was it because Mr. Gold had just denied the opera ‘ghost’s’ existence, perhaps? She still wasn’t sure where she had Malena. If she still believed in the Phantom of the Opera’s existence. Perhaps she did, but again, she would not dare go against a direct order from Mr. Gold. 

“You okay?” Lily asked softly. 

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Emma said, quickly snapping out of it. “Should we try and do some homework?”

That was exactly what they did. Emma wasn’t that good at concentrating, but she did her best. And she also managed to keep a conversation going with Lily. They did not talk about Bouquet, but about everything else, and that was a relief. 

Once they were done catching up on their homework, Emma called her parents to give them an update on how she was doing after everything. In the end she decided not to tell her parents about her lie. 

She had barely convinced them not to fly to Paris the last time she spoke to them. If she told them that she had witnessed Bouquet fall to his death, they most certainly WOULD be coming to Paris. Whether she wanted them to or not. It was better not to tell them. It was bad enough that she was lying to the entire opera house. She couldn’t bear to tell her parents yet another lie. 

When she was done talking to her parents (and assuring them that she was fine), Emma drifted around restlessly until it became dinner time. Then she could not wait any longer. She had to see her as soon as possible. To make sure that Regina was okay. Deep down, Emma was scared to find the lair empty again, but she convinced herself that that wouldn’t be the case. Of course not. Regina had promised not to go to the roof again, and Emma trusted that. But she still had to see her. Just to make sure. 

So when it became dinner time, Emma did what she normally did. She snuck food into her backpack. A sandwich. A cream soda. Just to give Regina some variation. Emma had brought her endless bottles of water, and surely it couldn’t be that interesting to drink water all the time. 

The canteen also served muffins today. Chocolate muffins. Madame Potts was spoiling them. Most likely because of all the horrible stuff that had happened. Emma looked at the chocolate muffins on display. Regina liked chocolate. She claimed that it made her teeth decay, but she always smiled in a certain way whenever Emma brought her something sweet and chocolate-y. Emma did not have to consider it for long. She simply nicked a muffin and slipped it inside her backpack. Discreetly, of course. She had gotten away with so much, she couldn’t end up getting caught stealing food. That would be ridiculous. 

But fortunately enough, nobody noticed, and instead of sitting down and having dinner in the canteen, Emma excused herself with wanting to be alone. Normally, she was being more subtle, but she simply did not have time to be subtle today. She missed Regina. And she did hope that they perhaps could talk about what Regina had said before she went through the mirror. That she wasn’t rejecting Emma because she didn’t feel the same...

Emma bit her lip as she slipped out of the canteen and walked back to her room. How could she convince Regina that she WAS worthy? What could she say? 

Regina felt the same way about her. But she did not want to act on her feelings. Emma’s chest constricted, and she wasn’t sure that it would have been worse if Regina did not reciprocate. Emma would have been able to move on then. But knowing that Regina felt the same way about her but wouldn’t allow herself to do so was even worse.....

She hadn’t needed worrying about the state of the lair. 

Some of the tall candlesticks were back in the lair. Not all of them, but this was most definitely an improvement. The lair already looked more homely. 

The unruly bundle of blankets and pillows were back in the corner as well, and as Emma walked closer, she spotted a pile of red laying atop of them. It didn’t take her long to realize that the ‘pile of red’ was in fact Regina. She was laying atop the mountain of blankets and pillows. She had changed from her red dress and into a deep purple velvet one. Her dark hair was partially covering her face, and she could have looked very peaceful, sleeping atop the blankets if it hadn’t been for the way her chest was rising and falling a bit too quickly.

Emma frowned and tilted her head. Was Regina in pain? She looked fine to Emma, but she could be in pain anyway. 

Regina exhaled in her sleep, and Emma considered the possibilities. Perhaps Regina was having a nightmare. Yes. That could be the reason for the quick breathing. A bad dream. 

Emma did not want Regina to have bad dreams, and she reached out to touch Regina’s hand and rouse her from her sleep, but some kind of instinct made her stop with her hand hovering inches from Regina’s. 

Yes, Regina was breathing fast in her sleep, but somehow she didn’t sound very distressed. She wasn’t thrashing about in the makeshift bed either. At least not in that violent way one tended to do when having a nightmare. She was moving, though. But gently. Softer. And the way she was squeezing the blanket between her fingers didn’t exactly indicate a nightmare either. 

Emma decided to let Regina sleep. With the morning she’d had, she needed it. She could eat later. 

As quietly as possibly, Emma turned around and walked towards the room behind the curtain. She wanted to wait there while Regina slept. 

But unfortunately, she ended up knocking her backpack against one of the candleholders. It did not fall, but it made a terrible noise as it swayed back and forward. 

Regina let out a gasp and sat bold upright in the blankets. She looked around in bewilderment, spotted the source of the noise and let out a surprised and slightly breathless: “Emma.” 

“Hi. Here I am,” Emma said, both surprised and sheepish because Regina never called her by her name. 

“Yes. Here you... are,” Regina said slightly halfheartedly and stood from the mountain of blankets. “Right now.” 

“Yeah, I.... the rehearsals were dismissed and... I wanted to see you,” Emma openly admitted. 

“I see,” Regina muttered as she took a step forward. She brushed her hair away from her face. “I was in the middle of getting this place back to normal, but then I got tired and had to rest. And now I can’t   
remember how far I got.”

“Oh,” Emma said. Regina seemed a little out of place today.

“Yes, it is unfortunate,” Regina said and took a step forward. She didn’t get very far, though. Fate wanted it that she tripped in one of the blankets and did an odd little movement to regain balance. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Are you alright?” Emma asked, frowning slightly. It was not like Regina to appear this disheveled. 

“Quite,” Regina said and pressed her fingertips against the mask as she sometimes did to ensure that it was still sitting in place. 

“Are you sure?” Emma pressed. 

“Yes.” Regina sounded a bit dismissive now and her dark eyes flickered. 

Was she... nervous? No, that was ridiculous. Regina never got nervous. And certainly not around Emma. Even thinking that was silly. 

“I went to Mr. Gold earlier,” Emma said, just to say SOMETHING. What she most wanted to talk about, was what Regina had said earlier, but it was evident that now was not the time, and Emma did not want   
to pressure Regina. 

“And what did dear old Mr. Gold have to say?” Regina asked. 

The tone gave Emma pause and prompted her to ask: “do you know Mr. Gold?”

“I know of him. His type,” Regina said lightly. “Too much money and prances around like he’s the goddamn king of the opera house.” 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely fair,” Emma gently protested and thought about how Mr. Gold had lost his wife and son in an accident. 

Regina scoffed. “I beg you, do not talk about what is fair and what is not not. Just... don’t.”

“Sorry.”

Regina ignored the apology. “So. What did he say?” 

“He believed me,” Emma said simply. “And I think that so will the choir and Malena.” 

“Good. Yes. I suppose that’s good. Now that you have chosen not to tell anyone what I’ve done.”

“And I stand by that choice,” Emma said calmly. She would rather walk on burning coal than report Regina to anyone. 

“Well then. Would you like to help me put up some candles?” Regina said almost a bit reservedly. 

“Of course.” Emma relieved herself of the backpack. Put it in the corner and then walked over to Regina who was now looking at the candles she had put up and those that were still in the corner of the lair. 

“Now where was I?” she murmured more to herself than to Emma. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asked. Regina wasn’t normally this confused. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Regina brushed her off and walked over to the nearest candleholder. She lifted it into an upright position. 

Emma did the same to another candleholder. She so wished that she and Regina could talk about the confession Regina had made earlier, but now was definitely not the time nor place. Regina seemed out of sorts in some way. Confused. Disheveled.

After a while of putting up most of the candleholders in silence, Regina sat down on one of the steps to the room behind the curtain. 

Emma sat down next to her and was almost certain that she saw Regina shift and move away from her. Trying not to feel upset at that, she said: “I brought a muffin for you.”

“Thank you. I shall eat it later.” 

“Are you not hungry?” 

“Not at the moment. I’m not used to eating lunch.” 

“Ah. I brought a sandwich too.” 

“You can save yourself the trip back to this place tonight then. How clever of you.” 

“Maybe I’ll come back later,” Emma said and studied Regina’s face. It was impossible to know what she was thinking. And she clearly wasn’t very interested in talking. Perhaps because she had just woken up. Or perhaps for other reasons.

“Are we not gonna sing today?” Emma asked, eager to break the weird mood somehow. 

“What would you like to sing?” Regina said, answering the question with another. 

“I...” why was it suddenly so hard to come up with a quick answer. And WHY did the mood have to be so strange? Was this how everything would be from now on? Truly? Emma wasn’t so sure she could   
bear that. “What would you like to sing?” she asked, slightly desperate. 

“You don’t even need more lessons,” Regina rumbled. “You are ready.” 

Ready for what? Emma did not know. And nor was that the most important thing right now. “Can’t we just sing together because it’s nice?” she asked. 

“There are many things we should not be doing together,” Regina said dully. “And I’m starting to think that singing is one of them.” 

“Regina,” Emma said quietly. “Please don’t talk like that.”

“You do not need me, Little Swan. Not for lessons nor for anything else.”

“Yes, I do!” Emma immediately protested. “I DO! And I can’t stand when you talk like that...” she trailed off and had to swallow roughly in order to stay focused. Not worthy. That was what Regina had said. That she was not worthy. God, that was not true! 

Next to her Regina shifted. For a moment, Emma almost thought that she was going to reach out and touch her.

But Regina did not. Instead she started singing: “’Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi....’”

Emma looked hopeful at her mentor and woman she could not get out of her head no matter how hard she tried.

“’Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do,’” Regina continued followed by a: ‘”Now you....’”

Utterly relieved at last hearing Regina sing, Emma grasped the opportunity with both hands and started singing: “’ Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi, Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do!”

“Move the ‘Do’,” Regina instructed, and her voice dropped an octave and turned to a deep mezzo soprano as she once again sang: “’ Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi, Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do.’”

Emma did as instructed and let her voice drop an octave too as she copied Regina: “’Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi, Do Re Mi Fa Sol...’” 

Together they sang ‘Fa Re, Mi Do’, and Emma allowed herself to slip back in the wonder she always felt when she heard Regina sing in that deep, velvet soft voice of hers: “’Oh, you are music! Beautiful music! And you are light to me.’” there truly was nothing better than hearing Regina sing. 

Emma joined in. Normally, she would not, but she could not resist participating in the song with Regina. She had to do this with her: “’Oh, you are music! Moonbeams of Music, and you are light to... me....’”

Regina continued: “’Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi, take a breath on one and after three!’”

“’ Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi,’” Emma sang, voice an octave higher than Regina’s now. “’Breathing first on one, and after three!’” 

“’ Breathing in the air, and ebb and flow, breathing taking care, Fa Re, Mi Do...’”

“’ Breathing in the air from deep below....’”

“’ Ready for the run, from Do to Do,’” they both sang, and Emma could barely concentrate when their voices blended together and created the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. Regina’s voice was deep and velvety and her own light and airy. Light and dark. Day and night. So different. Yet so perfect together. Beautiful. What she and Regina could create with their voices was incredible in every way,   
Emma knew that. She knew that Regina’s lessons had worked wonders on her voice, but it was not just that. Of course it was not. The sound of Regina’s voice brought a tear to Emma’s eyes, and she could barely concentrate on singing along on the last verse. The one that touched her the most. 

“’You are music! Beautiful music! And you are light to me! Oh, you are music! Sunburst of music! And you are light to..... me....’” 

The last tune hung in the air, and echoed in her ears. Emma had to swallow something. She turned her head and looked at Regina who looked like a statue as she sat there in her deep purple gown and with the dark curls flowing freely down her back. Her forehead was slightly wrinkled as though she was thinking about something that caused her great trouble.

Emma inched closer to Regina and hesitantly put her hand over hers. 

“Emma,” Regina said warningly, moving her hand away from underneath Emma’s. Though not in an unkind way. “You know that I cannot. That WE cannot.”

“How can I make you see that you ARE worthy?” Emma whispered. “That you ARE deserving of this?” 

“There are no answers to that because I am not,” Regina answered. “I told you this already. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you the entire world. Someone who can reach up and pluck down the moon for you.” 

“I do not want the moon,” Emma murmured. “And there is only one world I’m interested in. This one.” 

“Do not say that.”

“It is the truth,” Emma said simply. “You know I’m not lying when I say that.”

“And that is the problem, Little Swan. You haven’t seen enough of the world to know what you want. I am not saying this to upset you, but...”

“But what?”

“You deserve something that is perfect,” Regina said quietly. “Something that is not... damaged. Someone that can give you everything. Someone who is worthy of you.”

“Worthy,” Emma repeated and shook her head a little. “You think that just because something is perfect, it makes it worthy?”

Regina did not say anything, but Emma took her silence as a yes. She took a breath and spoke again: “just because something is not perfect... Does not make it any less worthy of love.”

Regina did not react to that. 

“Your mother and the world made you believe otherwise,” Emma continued. “They made you believe that you needed to be without fault in order to be loved, but that is wrong. If you need any proof of that, then look just here. I don’t know how to pretend any longer. And I cannot bear that you walk away from me all the time. I am in love with all of you. Even the parts that you believe are too dark and too damaged. Every scar. Every flaw. Every imperfection.” 

She drew in another breath and looked at Regina who was blinking rapidly. She put her hand over Regina’s again. “You may think that you are too damaged and too broken to ever allow yourself this, but you can choose differently, Regina Instead of walking away and claiming that you are unworthy, you can choose me. You can give me a chance. Give us a chance.”

“Emma,” Regina’s voice was a mere whisper. 

“Please,” Emma murmured, inching closer to Regina again. “Instead of claiming that I deserve the world, let me be a part of yours. Please?” 

Regina took her hand and interlaced their fingers. “You cannot ask this of me,” she whispered. “You cannot ever ask this of me.” 

“Ask me to leave,” Emma mumbled. “Tell me to go, and I will. I promise.”

Regina did not tell her to go. Instead she let go of Emma’s hand and took her face between her hands. She frowned slightly as she searched Emma’s eyes for signs that Emma was not speaking truthfully. 

She would not find any signs. 

“It will never be enough,” she whispered. 

“It will be more than enough,” Emma gently retorted. “It will. YOU will be enough. You’re all I want.”

A moment of silence. A moment where the conflict was evident in Regina’s eyes. A breath. The sound of Emma’s heart beat thrumming against her ribs. The feeling of the organ stopping momentarily while Regina made her decision. 

And then at last.... Regina kissed her.... 

To Be Continued...........


	44. No Thoughts Within Her Head But Thoughts of Joy

A million little firecrackers exploded inside Emma. Her stomach did a somersault. She was kissing Regina. 

Regina was kissing her. 

At last. 

Her lips were so soft against Emma’s. Her hair tickled slightly, and the white match scratched lightly against her skin. Emma had little control over her body right now, but she wished that she had. Because she so wanted to put her hands on Regina’s cheeks. Perhaps touch her hair. Even wind her arms around the Phantom’s neck. 

But she could not do anything except for holding Regina’s hands in her own. And.... Be kissed. Emma did not have any experience with kissing, and technically, she did not know what defined a ‘good’ kiss, but nevertheless, she felt like this was just that. A very, very good kiss! One that had butterflies flittering about in her stomach. Her chest filling with warmth and her cheeks heating up. She couldn’t have asked for a better or more perfect first kiss than this. She would not have wanted anybody else to give her her first kiss. Of course it had to be Regina. It wouldn’t have felt right if it had been anybody else. She gave Regina’s hands a little squeeze and was for a moment afraid that she had messed up when Regina moved her hand. 

But the only thing happening was that Regina lightly cupped her cheek with her hand. Like she had done so often. And exactly like she always did, Emma leaned into the touch. Her heart was hammering like crazy, and she was almost getting worried. Could one die from happiness? Emma did not know much about kissing, but she tried to follow the rhythm Regina had set. She felt like she could do this all night long. What was air? She didn’t need it. Regina was her oxygen now. And that was completely fine with her. 

A slight little gasping sound escaped her. It did not sound like her voice at all. Her voice was not that rough. Her voice was not that breathy. Was this what kissing did to a person? Emma finally felt brave enough to move her hand up to Regina’s which was still on her cheek. She put her hand on top of Regina’s. If only she had dared throwing her arms around the Phantom’s neck. But she had a feeling that it was too soon somehow. Regina wasn’t pulling her closer either. But oh, how Emma wished that she would! There was nothing she wanted more than to be closer to Regina. Feel her arms around her. Be held by her. Her Angel of Music. Her guide and guidance. God, how she adored this woman. She adored her more than she had words to describe it, and she hoped that she could pour all her emotions into this kiss. Regina smelled so good of apples and something else. Something crispy Emma couldn’t quite place. But one thing was sure, though. She was completely and utterly addicted to this to this scent. Like she was addicted to everything else about Regina. Singing, kissing. It did not matter. All of it attracted Emma like a bee to the honeypot. 

But then suddenly, Regina broke the kiss and gently but quickly moved her hand away from underneath Emma’s. 

Emma felt a slight pang of disappointment, but she also recognized if she needed to breathe, so did Regina. 

“See, now I’ve gone and done it,” Regina said gravely and shook her head. 

Emma’s stomach dropped at the bitterness in Regina’s voice. She could not be sounding like this. Not now when Emma was this happy!

“Please don’t regret it,” she begged as she reached for Regina’s hand. “Please? You can’t regret this. You shouldn’t! It was everything I’ve ever wanted, and I know that I don’t have any experience or anything, but to me it felt amazing, so please, don’t say that you regret-“

“Stop, stop, stop,” Regina firmly interrupted and looked at Emma with eyes that widened. “What do you mean when you say that you ‘don’t have any experience or anything’?” 

“I...” Emma ran out of words and wetted her lips. Now she felt insecure all the sudden. 

“Emma Swan,” Regina gritted out. “You are not telling me that this was your first kiss, are you?” 

“Well...” Emma blushed. Was it really that bad that she had never kissed anyone before Regina? 

“Oh gods, it was your first kiss!” Regina stood from the stone floor and proceeded to walk back and forward in the lair. “And you just let me take it from you! I stole your first kiss!”

“It is pretty hard to steal something that’s been given to you,” Emma pointed out as she too stood from the floor. This time she refused to let Regina walk away from her. 

“Your first kiss is supposed to be SPECIAL,” Regina said exasperated and tugged at her hair in utter frustration. “It’s not-“

“It WAS special!” Emma firmly interrupted. “It was everything I have ever wished for. It was wonderful and beautiful and perfect.” She bit her lip. “At least.. that’s how it felt for me.”

“For you?” Regina laughed disbelievingly. “Are you honestly concerned because you don’t think that I enjoyed it? Is that it?” 

“Well..” Emma tugged her hair behind her ear. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, so maybe I’m not that good at-“

“Stop. You’re... very good at kissing, okay?” Regina said slightly strained. “And I enjoyed it quite a lot. More than I should.” 

“Oh,” Emma smiled widely. Regina did not think that she was bad at kissing. Regina had enjoyed it as much as she had. 

“Pack that smile away,” Regina warned and wagged a finger in Emma’s face. 

“Why?” Emma asked softly as she easily snatched Regina’s hand and squeezed it. “Can’t I be happy?” 

“You should not be.” 

“Aren’t people supposed to be happy after being kissed for the first time?” 

“That depends on whom they kiss.” 

“Well, in that case I’m very, VERY happy,” Emma said and brought Regina’s hand up to her lips. Before Regina could protest, she had lightly kissed her knuckles. 

Regina sighed. “You’re making it very hard for me to be sensible.” 

“And I will continue to do so until you stop looking like you regret this.”

“I do not... regret it,” Regina murmured. “I just wish you would have told me that it was your first kiss.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Would you have kissed me if I had told you?”

“Yes,” Regina said at once. “But I would have done it... differently.” 

“You didn’t have to,” Emma insisted. “It was already plenty special!”

“Not special enough, Little Swan,” Regina said quietly and withdrew her hand from Emma’s grasp. “My own first kiss was ruined, and I would dread to think that I’ve done something similar to your experience.”

Oh. Something wretched stabbed at Emma’s stomach when she remembered Regina’s tale about Sébastien and what he almost had done to her... “I did not think of that,” she whispered. “But Regina, please believe me when I say that you did not ruin anything for me. I... I couldn’t have wished for a better first kiss than this one, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not a single one.”

“Truly?” 

“Truly,” Emma confirmed. 

“Well then,” Regina said, and Emma hoped that she would kiss her again, but she did not. Instead she turned around and walked back to where they had sat a moment earlier. 

Emma of course followed her. Sat down next to her. 

Regina did not react to that. She simply closed her eyes, and Emma wasn’t completely sure what she was doing. Was she trying to pretend that Emma was not there? Or was she perhaps still having second thoughts about the kiss? Whatever it was, Emma did not like it one bit. Regina had different kinds of silence. Sometimes it was comfortable, and at other times it was a bit more unnerving like this one. 

Emma shifted and wished that Regina would say something. Anything. 

But she did not. She remained quiet. 

Emma did not despair, though. She happened to have the perfect way to make Regina snap out of whatever funk she was in. As quietly as she could, she cleared her throat and then began singing: 

‘Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we've said

Goodbye

Remember me

Every so often

Please promise me

You'll try

On that day,

That not so distant day,

When you are far away and free

If you

Ever find

A moment

Spare a thought

For me....’

It worked. Regina smiled. She did not open her eyes. She simply made a ‘go on’ motion with her hands. 

And of course Emma continued: 

‘And though it’s clear,

Though it was always clear,

That this was never

Meant to be!

If you happen to

Remember

Stop

And think

Of me

Think of August

When the world was green!

Don't think about the way,

Things might have been...’

“Go on,” Regina encouraged, finally saying something again, and Emma became quite giddy because she had managed to make Regina snap out of her most likely heavy thoughts. 

“’Think of Me,’” she softly sang. “’Think of me waking, silent and resigned! Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind! Think of me, please say you’ll think of me, whatever else you choose to do! There will never be a day when I won’t think of you!’’

“Oh, Little Songbird,” Regina said and shook her head. “That is quite the dangerous weapon you have there.”

“I’m not trying to make it into a weapon,” Emma said. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me again.”

Regina laughed. “And you don’t call that using a weapon? Keep singing.”

“’Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade,’” Emma continued and snuck her fingers in between Regina’s. “’They have their seasons, so do we! But please promise me, that sometimes you will think....’” The cadenza, which she once struggled so badly with, now came easily to her, and she didn’t even need to strain as her voice climbed higher and reached that peek. She even had enough surplus to look at   
Regina while singing. And she liked what she saw. Regina had closed her eyes again. But not in a bad way this time. A little smile was dancing on her lips, and she squeezed Emma’s hand just a tad when she sang the last ‘of me!’

Her voice echoed in the lair, and Emma felt rather satisfied with herself. She loved singing for Regina. And she loved the way that Regina had squeezed her hand when she reached the climax of the song. It made her feel all confident and sure of herself in a way that she never had been before. And nobody had ever made her feel this confident either. In many ways, Regina had made her. Made her voice. And no better teacher than her existed. 

“I’ll say,” Regina said without opening her eyes. She was still smiling. “Very nice. I have taught you well, Little Songbird.” 

They way she said it made Emma curious. There was a hint of something in Regina’s voice. Something that was slightly more rougher than usual. She inched closer to Regina again until their legs were touching, and she did not let go of Regina’s hand. She did not want to. Instead she studied Regina thoroughly. She looked quite peaceful as she sat there smiling and with her eyes closed. But her breathing was.. a little faster than normally, Emma noted. How curious that Regina was breathing so fast when she looked so calm. It almost reminded Emma of the way Regina had been breathing when sleeping earlier. She gave Regina’s hand a little squeeze. Quietly said: “Regina?” 

“Mhmm?” Regina said without opening her eyes. 

“How do you feel when I sing?” 

Now Regina opened her eyes, and they sparkled as she looked at Emma. “Why do you ask me that?” 

Emma shrugged. “I am just curious, I suppose.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Regina teased, but then she murmured: “I feel the same as you do when I sing.”

Emma blushed as she thought about the way goosebumps appeared on her skin when Regina sang. How the little hairs in the back of her neck stood to attention. And how her abdomen tightened and tingled. “How can you know what I feel when you sing?”

“I have eyes, dear one,” Regina teased without malice.

Emma’s throat felt a little dry. “And you... feel the same?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. If there is something that can make me feel, it is music,” Regina said, standing from the ground once more. “And now I think its time for little swans to return to their dormitory. It is getting late and you have been here for a while already.” 

“Oh.” Emma felt disappointed although she knew that Regina was right. It WAS late. And she SHOULD be getting back. She really, really should... holding back a sigh she too stood from the ground. “Right,” she muttered.

Regina laughed at her. “Now, now. There’s really no reason to look so crestfallen, Little Swan. You will come back tomorrow, will you not?”

“Yes, but...” Emma bit it back. Wasn’t quite brave enough to say what she really wanted to say. What she desired the most. What she wished would happen before she left. 

Regina chuckled. Seemed to know exactly what Emma was thinking about. She leaned in and gave Emma a very, very chaste kiss on the lips. “There,” she said lightly. “Satisfied?” 

“Yes,” Emma said automatically even though she wasn’t completely satisfied. She would have liked a longer kiss. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Regina said. Now her voice was soft. Patient. 

“I’m not getting ahead of myself,” Emma protested. 

Regina sighed. “I was talking to myself, my dear. Not you.”

Emma would very much have liked to know more about that, but Regina shook her head slightly and then seemed to snap out of her thoughts. Whatever those might have been. 

“Now off you pop, Little Swan,” she said firmly but kindly. “It’s late. And I wish to sleep. I need it. And so do you.” 

“Very well,” Emma said. She was reluctant. And afraid that Regina would have changed her mind about the kisses tomorrow morning. She was afraid that Regina would regret it come morning. 

“Goodnight,” Regina singsong’ed as she disappeared inside the room behind the curtain, and Emma found it pointless to stay when Regina was not here. It was very much time to leave the lair...

Her feelings were an equal mixture of frustration and happiness when she came back to her own room. Her heart was still thumping in her chest when she pushed the mirror back in place, and she was almost in a kind of daze as she went into the bathroom, undressed, showered, and then dried off. She tied her hair back in a braid and changed into her white nightgown. Her head was swimming with thoughts. Regina had kissed her. She had kissed Regina. And it had been absolutely wonderful. But what if Regina would think differently come morning? What if she would have been thinking about it all night and reached the conclusion that she should not be kissing Emma?

Emma’s heart would break if that was the case. Plain and simple. Tonight something she had hoped for so long had finally happened. The idea of Regina taking it away from her tomorrow was positively heartbreaking. 

Emma went to bed and pulled the covers all the way up to her chin. She had to at least try and get some sleep. She hoped she would be able to. She was not interested in laying awake for hours and hours. She would only end up convincing herself that Regina definitely had changed her mind about the kisses. But she couldn’t have. She had kissed Emma before she left the lair, had she not? 

But- Emma’s stomach twisted- for what reason? Had Regina kissed her because she wanted to, or had she done it only to send Emma off? 

She hoped not. She hoped that Regina had kissed her because she wanted to and for absolutely no other reason than that. 

Emma huffed. If Regina had changed her mind tomorrow, Emma would have to change it back. She couldn’t let Regina think that this was bad when it was not. And her first kiss had been amazing. 

Regina had not taken anything from her. 

Emma had willingly given it to her. 

And she was more than happy to explain that to Regina tomorrow if it was necessary. 

She rolled onto her other side and allowed herself to just be happy instead of worried for a moment. Regina had kissed her. At last. And it had been absolutely perfect and wonderful in every way. Emma could not have wished for more. If she had to describe her first kiss, she would have described it just like that. Warm feelings coiled in her stomach when she thought about the kiss. It was the same feelings she’d had whenever Regina was singing. Emma flushed. Regina felt the same way when she was singing. She had said so herself, and Emma still struggled a bit to believe it. That her singing made Regina, the epitome of music feel like that. 

Emma shifted in bed. She was restless. What she wanted the most, was to run back to the lair and make sure that Regina had not changed her mind. God, she hoped that was not the case! 

Emma wasn’t quite sure what she would do if Regina rejected her again. 

There was a chance that she simply would break down crying. 

Right in the middle of the lair. 

She reached up and touched her lips. Was she making it up, or did they feel warm? Could she still feel the phantom brush of Regina’s lips against her own? 

She licked her lips. Mostly toothpaste, but also the linger of a spicy taste. That most certainly had to be Regina. Emma sighed and reminded herself that she was supposed to go to sleep and not think about Regina. And certainly not in a way that made her body heat up and had certain sensitive things puckering up under her nightgown. Emma shivered even though she was definitely not cold. More because she was embarrassed about suddenly being what other seventeen year olds were. Hormonal. God, she thought that this would never happen to her, but now it had, and she had no idea what to do with herself and her stupid, sensitive body! 

Well, she knew what she WANTED to do. 

She wanted to rush back to the lair for more kisses. 

But she could not. Regina was tired. She had said so. She needed her rest. 

If only she could have come here to rest. But there was no reason for her to do that now. The threat from Bouquet was gone. He would never try and harm Emma again. He could not. 

Emma shifted again and rolled over, so she was laying on her stomach with her face mashed into the pillow. She pulled at the covers until her face was covered too. Wondered what Regina was doing right now. Had she already fallen asleep, or was she still awake? Was she thinking? About bad things? About good things? About Emma? 

Yes, she was vain enough to hope that. She was vain enough to hope that Regina was thinking about her like Emma was thinking about her. 

Emma shook her head and scoffed in the darkness. She had to at least TRY and calm down. Had to settle in for the night and get some sleep. It was so very late, and she would be exhausted tomorrow if she didn’t fell asleep right now. And she knew that Regina would be displeased too. She always was whenever Emma had gone to sleep late. And she always knew. She would take one look at Emma’s face, click her tongue and then say, ‘you went to sleep late’. And Emma would feel guilty for her late night and mutter a meek ‘yeah’. To which Regina would scoff and chaste her: ‘You should not do that. It is not healthy for you.’ 

She was right. And Emma took a deep breath and tried to relax all of her muscles. Now she would really try and take Regina’s words to heart. She would do her utmost to fall asleep right now. And settle for worrying about whether Regina’s feelings had changed or not, tomorrow....

She felt all groggy when the alarm went off the next morning. She blindly fumbled after her alarm to switch it off, and after a few attempts, she succeeded. But it didn’t lessen her grogginess. With a mighty, reluctant groan, Emma sat up in bed and rubbed her tired eyes. She couldn’t really see anything without her glasses, and she scrabbled on her bedside table to find them. 

But instead of brushing her fingertips against her glasses, she brushed them against something else. Something... soft? 

What? 

What was that, she wondered as she at last succeeded in finding her glasses. She perched them on her nose and the image of the darkened bedroom immediately became sharper. Albeit a bit greasy. Her glasses needed cleaning. 

But cleaning her glasses was the last thing on her mind right now. She was far more interested in finding out what the soft ‘something’ she had brushed her fingers against was, and she turned her head to solve this mystery. 

It was a rose. 

Emma blinked as though the rose would disappear. But of course it did not. It was still there when she opened her eyes again. Red and beautiful and smelling absolutely wonderful. 

She reached out and lifted the rose. Carefully, not to damage any of the fine petals. And not to prick herself on the sharp thorns. She brought the rose up to her nose and inhaled softly. Mmm. Absolutely wonderful. Taking a closer look at the rose, she noticed that a black ribbon had been tied around the stem. 

Emma had seen that kind of black ribbon before. In Regina’s hair. Of course Regina was the one who had left this rose on her bedside table. Turning her head again, she spotted a little note lying on the bedside table, and she eagerly grabbed it and squinted slightly behind her glasses to read it. It was written in Regina’s elegant handwriting and read only two words: ‘No regrets’.

Emma smiled widely. No regrets. Thank god! Regina did not have second thoughts! She had given her a nose. That was really special and beautiful. She had to have been here tonight when Emma slept, and said blonde felt a slight pang of disappointment. She should have woken up when Regina was here. Urgh, why hadn’t she? That was so stupid! Why did she have to be such a heavy sleeper? Just... urgh.

Grumbling to herself, she got out of bed and padded into the bathroom where she found the glass she usually kept her toothbrush in. Now that glass had a far better purpose. She quickly filled it with water and then brought it back inside her little bedroom. Sat it down on the bedside table and carefully put the rose in the glass. There. Now it would stay fresh for at least a couple of days. She didn’t want it to wither right away, that would be a shame. The rose was so beautiful and special. 

As much as she wanted to, she could not stand here and look at the rose all day long. She had places to be. Breakfast to eat. And rehearsals to attend to. The lessons were scheduled today as planned, and being late would not be good for credibility. Now was the time to act like nothing was going on. 

Even though PLENTY was going on! Emma wasn’t even sure how she would manage to keep the smile off her face today. Or any day. She was in love with Regina. Regina was in love with her. And honestly, that was the only thing that was important in Emma’s world. 

But Malena would probably think differently. 

Emma ended up grinning a bit to herself. Imagine if Malena knew of all of this. 

She didn’t. Nobody did. This was Emma’s secret. Hers alone. And she intended to keep it that way. 

Remembering that she could not be late, Emma finally got a move on and grabbed her white chorus dress from the dresser. She was glad that she had chosen to shower last night rather than this morning. 

It gave her a bit more time to do her hair and makeup. More than ever, it mattered to her to look her very best. She had plans of going to the lair as soon as she possibly could after dinner. She didn’t want Regina to wait for her tonight of all night. 

In the bathroom, Emma brushed through her hair until it hung in shiny, golden curls down her back. She applied mascara to her lashes, pale pink lipstick to her lips, and then she took a step back to ‘admire’ her work. Yep, that actually looked pretty good. Natural enough to not draw too much attention to herself, but still just enough to make an impression. At least she hoped so. 

Emma returned to the bedroom and made her bed. When she lifted the bedspread to tuck it over her bed, Christine Daaé’s diary fell onto the floor. Oh. She had actually forgotten that it was here. She would have to return it to Regina when she saw her tonight. 

Emma grabbed the diary and carefully stuffed it inside her backpack to keep it safe. It was precious to Regina, so of course she wanted to make sure nothing happened to it. The last thing she needed to do, was to put on her cardigan. Once she had done that, she was officially ready to leave her room. And leave the beautiful rose behind. Unfortunately. She would have liked to stay and look at it for just a little bit longer. Where had Regina even gotten a rose from, she wondered, and entertained herself with the idea of Regina sneaking around in the entire opera house and cussing under her breath until she managed to find a rose. She would have to ask her about it tonight. About where she had found the rose. Emma doubted that even Regina was magician enough to simply make the rose ‘appear’ out of nowhere. But then again, Regina was pretty incredible, so maybe she could in fact make roses appear...

The mood in the canteen was somewhat better today. Everyone seemed relieved that things were getting back to some kind of normalcy. The rehearsals were back, and Joseph Bouquet’s death had been ruled an accident. People believed Mr. Gold. Exactly like Emma had hoped that they would after he had debunked the myth about the Phantom of the Opera.

Emma still did not feel good about lying, but she repeatedly told herself that it was for the greater good. Joseph Bouquet had not been a good man. That was what she chose to focus on. His guilt. The crime he had committed. And gotten away with for three years until he started targeting her instead. If she hadn’t come to Paris, Bouquet never would have been revealed. 

Emma started her breakfast with a healthy appetite. Everything that had happened last night had left her absolutely famished. She practically scarved eggs and bacon down her throat with vigor and did not stop until Lily chuckled. 

“Wha’?” Emma said, mouth full of bacon. 

“Nothing. You’re... eager,” Lily smiled. “Not that it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m hungry,” Emma shrugged and continued her food fairy tale. Did falling in love make you particularly hungry? Emma didn’t know. She had not been in love until now. 

“Well, it’s great to see you doing better after yesterday,” Lily said. “You’ve gained some color in your cheeks.” 

Emma settled for a light shrug. Hopefully not too much color. Could people tell that she was in love? Would it only be a matter of time before people started questioning her about the dazed look in her eyes or her pink cheeks? She wisely concentrated on her breakfast and avoided making any accidental eye contact with anyone. She had gotten away with lying until she was blue in the face over more serious things. No way she was gonna let this be the thing that revealed her. She refused. 

Ruby too was eating today, Emma noticed. That had to be a good sign. It had to mean that she not only had accepted Emma’s claim about seeing Bouquet fall, but also Mr. Gold’s explanation about Bouquet’s fall being an accident. 

Thank god. Thank god Ruby believed her at last. And believed Mr. Gold. Maybe she finally would stop asking questions and stop giving Emma looks of suspicion every so often. 

Emma so hoped that was the case. Lying to all the teachers was bad enough. But lying to Ruby whom she considered to be a friend, was absolutely awful, and of course Emma felt guilty. She wasn’t completely blind to what she was doing. But she also knew that she had to. It was the only way to keep Regina safe. However impossible it sounded, Emma was starting to think of herself as Regina’s protector. Her confidante. And.. something more. Her stomach tingled again...

Of course nothing unusual happened that day. The rehearsal proceeded just like it always did, with Ruby as the main soprano and the choir in the background. There were no noises from the bridge or anywhere else. And even Malena seemed a bit more relaxed. Maybe Mr. Gold’s reassurance had worked on everyone. Even a teacher who believed in the Phantom of the Opera. If Malena even did that. 

Perhaps it was just something she had said because she had been freaked out. 

Emma was just naïve enough to believe that could actually be the case. 

But the day proceeded as normal. Rehearsal. Lunch. Schoolwork. Ten minutes recess. More rehearsal, this time with orchestra for two hours without interruption. Then twenty minutes break. More rehearsals, more singing, bla, bla, bla. Emma was impatient and could barely muster being subtle about is as she shoved food down her backpack. Unfortunately, they were not having anything nice for dinner nor dessert. She would have loved to bring Regina a muffin like yesterday. As a gift or something. But she had to settle for sandwiches and the usual chocolate bars. Damnit. 

Oh well. Nothing to do about that now. Emma hastily slung the backpack over her shoulder and off she went. She was rushing tonight and didn’t really pay attention to the others. But since nobody followed her, she figured that nobody had paid attention to her hasty departure. They never did. Nobody ever took notice of shy Emma Swan. And oh, how big an advantage that was when you were off to see your... 

Your what?

Emma frowned as she walked back to her own room. Exactly WHAT was Regina now? Friend did not cover it anymore. Not when they had kissed each other. But what covered then? What was a more fitting description? 

Of course, Emma knew what term she WANTED to use, but she had a feeling that Regina would not like that. So she would have to settle for something else. 

Angel of Music. 

Yes. That was a very good term. Regina was her Angel of Music. Plain and simple. That was a term that would not change no matter what. 

When she reached her room, she carefully locked the door behind her to avoid any nasty surprises. Then she fluffed up her hair and looked at the beautiful rose in the glass on the bedside table. It still looked as brightly red as this morning. Emma walked over and bowed her head so she could smell the rose. The scent was still wonderful too, and Emma hoped that this was not the last rose Regina would bring her. Nobody had ever gifted her with a rose before, and Emma easily found it to be the most romantic thing in the world. Though Regina would probably laugh if she told her so. 

Regina. Right. Emma really should not be dawdling when she could be on her way to see Regina...

The lair looked exactly like it always did when she stepped in. Full of candles everywhere. Emma was so happy to see that. And even more happy was she to see Regina sitting on the pile of blankets on the floor. She was in a forest green velvet gown with a modest neckline tonight, and she was running the brush through her long dark hair and humming softly to herself. Absentmindedly. Clearly in her own world. 

“Hi,” Emma said. Because she wanted in in Regina’s world. 

Regina’s head snapped up, and she stopped brushing her hair abruptly. Then she smiled a little. “Good evening,” she said a bit formally. 

“Good evening,” Emma parroted. “Thank you for the rose.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Emma asked as she slipped off the backpack and sat it down in the corner. 

“In the middle of the night?” Regina said and raised one visible eyebrow. 

“Yes. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I’m well aware that you wouldn’t,” Regina said, scowling slightly as she stood from the floor. But the scowling did not last very long. After a moment she smiled and outstretched her hand towards Emma.   
“Come.” 

Emma hastily walked over to her and took her hand. She smiled at her mentor and said: “I’ve missed you today.” 

Regina made a slight scoffing sound. “You saw me last night, dear.”

“Yes, but that was last night,” Emma pointed out with a shrug. “This is tonight. And I have missed you.” 

“Oh, Little Swan,” Regina sighed. “What am I going to do with you?” 

The way she said it sent shivers down Emma’s spine, and she did not know where she got the courage from when she said: “you could kiss me?” formed as a question or not, it was still bold as hell, and she was utterly surprised. 

But even more surprised when Regina merely did as she asked and kissed her. So very softly. Emma immediately melted completely into the kiss and made a little sound in the back of her throat. Regina’s arms were around her neck. She ended up standing on her tippy toes, so she was just tall enough to put her hands on Regina’s shoulders. God, Regina was kissing her. Finally. That chaste little kiss she had sent Emma away with last night hadn’t been quite enough. But this was. This was more than enough, and Emma would be completely fine with doing this all night. She tried her best to mimic the pace and rhythm Regina was setting for them, and she actually felt like she was doing a fairly good job. Regina was not pulling away. Her hands merely moved so she was cupping Emma’s cheeks, and Emma saw the opportunity to finally throw her arms around Regina’s neck. She felt Regina stiffen very briefly, but then she responded by sort of stroking her fingertips across Emma’s cheeks as they kissed. 

Emma’s legs were like jelly. Her brain was mush. She was completely and utterly useless right now. 

Completely and utterly in love with Regina. Her fate was sealed. There was no turning back now. 

And she didn’t WANT to turn back either. Seriously, if she had it her way, she was to remain in this lair until the end of time. 

Another breathless sound tumbled from her lips. She could not recognize the sounds coming out of her mouth, but that didn’t matter. She was fine. More than that. She was absolutely perfect. And she never wanted Regina to stop kissing her. 

Regina’s hands moved away from her cheeks and landed on the back of her head instead. Her fingers were weaving through Emma’s hair, and Emma was positive that she was in heaven. Surely, this had to be that, right? 

She found herself staggering slightly backwards, but Regina easily caught her by wrapping an arm around her waist, and if Emma’s legs hadn’t felt like jelly a moment ago, they certainly did now! She gasped as she felt herself being closer than ever to Regina. She could feel her warmth through her velvet gown. Could feel her body in a way that had her skin heating and her cheeks flaming. Was she gonna faint again? 

No. No, she couldn’t faint right now. Not in the middle of a kiss. Regina might never kiss her again if she did so. Emma found herself growing bolder and parted her lips ever so slightly. Just so she could kiss Regina a little better. That was all she wanted. 

Regina made a sound in response. Something that could almost have been a low growling sound, and Emma felt herself being held even closer. And yet somehow that wasn’t even enough.

A shiver ran down her spine. Tingles erupted in her stomach, and suddenly, Emma had no idea what to do with herself. Her head was spinning. Her body so warm her clothes had to be melting. 

This... was even better than when Regina was singing. It had the same effect, but stronger. Emma staggered again. The half-mask was pressing against her face and her glasses were getting crooked, but none of it mattered. 

Because Regina was kissing her. Really kissing her.

Would it be like this every time? Or would it only be like this every time she kissed REGINA? 

Well.. Emma certainly had no plans of ever kissing anyone else. 

Regina was the only one for her. There had never been anyone else. And there never would be either. 

Emma found herself moaning as she parted her lips just a little more. Just because she could not help herself.

But then Regina suddenly broke the kiss and chuckled. Her voice was hoarser than ever. “There,” she said. “Congratulations. Your third kiss.”

“That was really nice,” Emma said breathlessly. 

“Yes. Yes, it was,” Regina said almost thoughtfully, moving her hands away from Emma’s cheeks to run her fingers through her hair. “I must be more alive than what I first assumed.” 

“How about a fourth kiss?” Emma suggested. She couldn’t stop herself. She had to have more immediately. 

Regina chuckled. Then she leaned in and gave Emma a quick peck on the lips. “There.”

“Not like THAT,” Emma pouted. 

Regina clicked her tongue. “I should not kiss you the ‘other’ way for a longer period of time, Little Swan.” 

“Why not?” Emma couldn’t help but moan in complain even though it was probably childish. 

“Because I’m a human being,” Regina said simply. “And a very WEAK human being too.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

Regina was clearly rolling her eyes behind the mask now. “God, do I need to spell it out for you?” she said almost snippily. Then she lowered her voice as she continued: “If I kiss you for too long, I might end up... losing control.” 

“So?” Emma shrugged. “I don’t mind that.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true!” Emma insisted. “I really don-“

“You’ve already given me your first kiss,” Regina interrupted, voice gentler now. “I don’t want you to give me... anything else.”

“But what if I WANT to give you anything else? What if I want to give you everything?” Emma’s heart was beating fast in her chest, but she was not the slightest bit nervous. Perhaps a bit embarrassed about the subject, but not nervous. She was only saying the truth. She DID want to give Regina everything. 

“Good god, Emma!” Regina shook her head in a quick, jerky motion and almost looked a bit shocked. “Don’t ever offer me THAT. You don’t even know what you’re saying.” She shook her head again. “No, I think it’s best if you sit down and... sing.” Despite having just ordered Emma to sit down, Regina was the one who ended up plopping down on the ground rather gracelessly. She fidgeted with her hairbrush and refused to meet Emma’s eye as she started to run the brush through her hair again. 

Emma figured that she had stepped in it and immediately back pedaled. She sat down next to her. “I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Are you angry?” 

Regina chortled. A deep, rich sound echoing slightly in the lair. “No, I am not angry,” she murmured and abandoned the hairbrushing in favor of cupping Emma’s cheek instead. “But you have no idea what kind of effect your words have,” she continued in that deep, raspy burr as her deep brown eyes bored into Emma’s. “And you must be careful with them. Don’t offer me things on a whim.” 

“I wasn’t,” Emma said. “At least not... on a whim.” 

Regina made a sound in the back of her throat. She clearly did not believe Emma’s words. 

And perhaps she had good reason to. Emma silently considered it. She was most certainly offering Regina things, yes. She wasn’t gonna lie about that. Why was it so bad that she wanted to give Regina more than kisses? That she wanted to feel close to her in any way it was possible? That she burned and boiled every time Regina kissed her? That she wanted.... Well, she wanted things she usually was too embarrassed to even think about. She turned her head. Looked at Regina and was surprised to see that a certain flush had crept up Regina’s neck. The Phantom also looked fairly absentminded. What was she thinking about? She still had her hand on Emma’s cheek.

Emma leaned in, and careful not to make Regina move her hand from her cheek, she turned her head and gave Regina a kiss on her cheek. 

That prompted Regina to stiffen slightly and then look at Emma. “You really must stop that, dear,” she scolded. 

“Why?” Emma asked. 

“I already told you why. I am trying to maintain control over the situation.”

“You don’t have to,” Emma dared saying. She was not made of glass. Nor was she some delicate little flower. And she happened to be completely addicted to Regina’s touches and kisses. A dam had been broken, and as foreign kissing had been to her yesterday, as addicted she was to it now. She was finally living up to the expectations as a ‘normal’ teenager. 

Regina ignored that and said: “sing something. Anything. I don’t care what. As long as you just sing.”

Accepting that the subject was closed, Emma reached up and put her hand over the one of Regina’s that were still resting on her cheek. If not kissing, she at least had to be close to Regina in SOME way. 

Regina did not withdraw her hand. “Sing,” she ordered. 

And so Emma sang the first thing coming to mind: ‘And do I dream again, for now I find... The Phantom of the Opera is there... Inside my mind!’

Regina laughed unexpectedly at that. “In every way, I’m afraid, Little Swan. In every way, I’m afraid.”

But Emma was not the slightest bit afraid. There was no thoughts within her head except for thoughts of joy...

To Be Continued......


	45. Turn My Head With Talk Of Summertime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. This chapter is a bit all over the place. Because I'm a bit all over the place at the moment. On January 11th, I lost my precious fur baby. He gave me 13,5 years of his life, and for that I will be grateful, but he has left a gigantic hole in my heart. He was more than 'just' a dog. He was my baby. And I know there are worse things going on in the world right now, believe me, I do. But loosing him definitely feels like an extra blow. And a terrible way to start 2021.

Time went by so quickly, and before Emma knew of it, the masquerade ball and concert was only fourteen days away. The entire choir was buzzing with excitement about the upcoming concert. And the masquerade ball, of course. 

Emma was blending in nicely with her excitement, but she was not as excited about the masquerade and concert like the others. She was excited about something else. So very excited she could barely function during the day. 

To Emma, this was the happiest she had ever been. Her voice was better than ever. She no longer had to be afraid of anything. The man who had been threatening her was gone. 

And in the evening, she would disappear through the mirror to spend time with Regina. And that was her favorite part. Sneaking of. Spending time with Regina. Kissing her. Oh god, that was her favorite part of all. 

But Regina was cautious with her kisses. Very cautious. She never allowed herself to get ‘carried away’ as she called it. She would always break the kiss before it could get too intense. And then she would remind Emma of the reason why she was there. To sing. 

Emma was definitely there for more reasons than one. Singing was one of them, yes. But she had come to find the kissing part equally as important as singing. Or perhaps even more important. Kissing Regina was one of her favorite things to do, and every time Regna broke the kiss and gently shoved her away, Emma would feel a pang of disappointment low in her gut. She didn’t want Regina to stop kissing her. She didn’t want Regina to be cautious. But she DID want Regina to get carried away. She often said that to Regina, but Regina always merely scoffed and told Emma that she had no idea what she was asking for. 

That was technically true, Emma did not fully know what she was asking for, but she knew enough. Knew that if Regina did things beyond kissing, it would be completely wonderful. 

But Regina never did go beyond kissing. It was always Emma who needed more. Always her who came to Regina with such unbidden desire. Her with the arms that winded around Regina’s neck. Her with the body that glued itself to Regina on its own accord. The few times it had happened, Regina’s arms had started to shake, and when Emma worriedly had asked if she was okay, Regina had barked out a laugh and said that she ‘wasn’t that adapted to kissing yet’.

Neither was Emma, but she knew that it was her new favorite thing to do. If only Regina wouldn’t be as cautious. She claimed that she was holding back to protect Emma, but Emma did not WANT to be protected. She wanted Regina to let go and surrender completely. If that was even possible for her. Emma hoped that it was. She hoped that Regina one day would stop holding back and give her everything. 

It was very fortunate that Emma was so well-versed in the songs they were rehearsing and knew the lyrics in her sleep, because she was not at all concentrating about singing. Regina was all she saw, all she heard, all she thought about. Her mouth took over the singing while her thoughts drifted to a candle-lit lair and the beautiful woman who lived in it. Everything else had sort of taken a backseat. That including the concert and the masquerade ball. And the fact that it would be only two weeks before her parents arrived at the Opera Garnier in Paris. 

Her parents. Over the cause of the past month, Emma had barely thought about them, really. Her thoughts had been everywhere else whenever she had spoken on the phone with them. Afterwards she had felt guilty for it. But the next time she spoke to them, she had done the same all over again. 

It was almost like they didn’t fit in her life anymore. It was horrible to even think that, but that was sort of how she felt. She had changed so much since she had come to Paris. She was no longer the timid little Emma Swan who was awestruck when she first sat foot in the opera house. She was different. Better. Grown up in a way almost. And they still talked to her like she was a child. She was not. She was seventeen years old. Eighteen in three months. When she turned eighteen, it would be possible for her to move out of the dormitory in the opera house and into an apartment in Paris if she could find one. 

She had inherited some money when her grandmother Eva died. Quite a lot, actually. And she knew that if she wasn’t too picky and didn’t aim for something overly expensive, she could in fact afford a little place in Paris. Nothing too luxurious, of course. But still, it would be her own place. Where she could do where she wanted. No more dormitory. No more rules. No more teachers patrolling the hallways. If she had a place of her own, she could live exactly as she wanted. And live with WHO she wanted. 

If she had a place of her own, nobody would know if there was someone else living with her. Someone like Regina. 

Over the past month, Emma had thought a lot about that. Suppose she and Regina could live together in an apartment? Regina could leave the lair. She could get a ‘normal’ life. THEY could get a normal life. Together. 

Sometimes Emma was certain that that was the only thing to do. And at other times, she back-pedaled and found her idea to be completely ridiculous and utterly unrealistic. She had never tried living on her own. Not in an apartment. And how was she supposed to spin things when her parents came to visit her? Because they most certainly would. Regularly. She couldn’t exactly be all casual and go: ‘oh, and this is Regina, the woman I’m ridiculously in love with. I know that she’s a bit older than me, but that’s okay, and oh, she also used to live in a lair beneath the opera house...’ Yeah, no, that was not gonna fly well with her parents. They would definitely have a question or two. 

Emma felt horrible for not being over the moon about her parents coming to Paris. She was actually... dreading it. As horrible as it sounded. 

When her parents came to Paris, Emma would not have the chance to see Regina at all. Of course her parents expected her to spend time with them. She couldn’t just sneak off like she normally would. 

And she was also nervous because her parents knew her so well. Knew her better than anyone else. She feared that they would figure everything out. And that could not happen. She had managed to keep this a secret for so long. Being busted by her parents would just... suck. 

And then there was the masquerade ball. Emma still wanted Regina to go with her. Even if she was not in danger anymore. She wanted Regina to go with her just because. Because they were involved now, and Emma had no opportunity to take Regina out on a date. A masquerade ball would have to suffice. She hoped that she could convince Regina to go with her. Emma knew that it of course was a risk, but she couldn’t help but remember that Regina had done it before. Attended a masquerade ball. And if she had done it once.... Maybe she could do it again so she and Emma could spend the evening together. Dancing. Hiding in plain sight. She so wanted Regina to see her in her new dress. Selfish. But she couldn’t help it. 

So it was safe to say that Emma was balancing a lot of things lately. And one wrong movement could definitely make everything tip over, but so far she was managing. So far, she was balancing everything beautifully. Rehearsals. Interact with her friends to make sure that no one suspected a thing. And then of course spend as much time as she possibly could with Regina. That was the most important thing for her. And it was frustrating that there wasn’t enough hours in the day to do so. If Emma had her sweet way, she would be spending her every waking moment in the lair with Regina. Sing songs and kiss her. Just that. That was the only thing Emma truly cared about. Really, the concert was barely of any interest to her. She was more interested in the time AFTER the concert. The choir would be enjoying some time off then. No more rehearsals for a good while. Instead they would have to focus on their schoolwork and music theory. But that was something they could do in either the common room or their respective rooms. 

Or perhaps in a lair underground. 

Oh yes, Emma had plans about doing her schoolwork in the lair with Regina. She was so smart and knew so much. She was particularly good at math which Emma was struggling with. She had no idea where Regina had learned so much math, but she was certainly grateful. 

That night, Emma was as usually hurrying through her dinner. Today’s lessons had been dragging on forever. Malena had kept them on stage for thirty minutes later than usually. Which was so unfair because Emma hated being late. She hated the idea of Regina walking back and forward in the lair, waiting for her dinner and being hungry. 

When Malena finally let them go, Emma was kinda grumpy because of the whole situation. She missed Regina. Had only had the briefest interaction with her this morning. Regina had been sitting behind the mirror. She hadn’t been in the mood for coming fully into the room (she had claimed that her hair was a mess, something Emma doubted), but she had nevertheless pushed the mirror slightly to the side, and then her hand appeared through the crack. And in her hand had been another red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem. Emma had received a red rose with a black ribbon every morning for the past month. She had asked Regina about the black ribbons and why she tied them around the roses, but Regina had merely laughed and said that it was so ‘you won’t forget who I am’.

Emma had found that to be a to be a curious statement, because the chances of her ever forgetting who Regina was, was beyond slim. 

She hastily scarved down another spoonful of mashed potatoes, choking slightly on the food and immediately scolding herself for it. Not drawing attention to herself didn’t go well with accidentally choking on her food, did it? 

Next to her, Lily chitchatted eagerly with Killian. She had done that quite a lot lately, and Emma kept her fingers crossed that it meant that Killian was planning on asking Lily for the masquerade ball. 

Otherwise Emma had a terrible feeling that Lily was planning on asking HER. Because Lily was kind. Because Lily did not want her to go alone. 

Emma did not want to go alone either. But she was wishing for Regina’s company. Not Lily’s. 

It was strange, the thing with Lily. Sometimes she was only acting as a friend, but at other times, her smiles were warmer and her touches more frequent. She still had a crush on her, Emma was sure of that. But she so hoped that Killian would ask Lily to go to the masquerade ball with him. Surely, that would lessen Lily’s crush, right? Yes. She and Killian were hitting it off pretty well. He often made her laugh. That was a good thing, right? 

Emma knew so little of how crushes worked. At least traditional ones. The crush she’d had on Regina was definitely not a traditional one. 

She did not have a crush on Regina anymore. Now she was ‘just’ in love with Regina. Thoroughly and completely. She had told Regina that, but Regina didn’t like hearing about it. Her mouth always twisted in a particular way, and she often went ‘oh, Little Swan’ as though it was a bad thing. It was not. She was silly for saying so.

Coming into the lair, Emma found the place to be quite deserted, but she knew that Regina was there because she could hear a faint humming coming from the room behind the curtain. Emma tilted her head and listened intensely. Then she smiled a little. It almost sounded like the vocalizing part from The Little Mermaid. Sometimes Regina enjoyed singing more ‘silly’ songs. Like this one. 

Walking across the floor, Emma nearly stepped on a white handkerchief laying on the floor. She curiously picked it up and glanced at it. A little ‘E.D’ had been embroidered in the top right corner. ‘E.D’. 

Erik Destler. She wondered if Daniela Khan was the one who had made the handkerchief for Regina and decided not to ask Regina about it. Erik Destler was a part of her past, and sometimes Regina didn’t feel up for talking about Erik. 

She walked into the room behind the curtain and almost immediately blushed at what she found. 

Regina was laying on her back in the boat bed. She was wearing what appeared to be a rather short black nightgown that only reached her mid-thigh and absolutely nothing else. Her dark hair was loose and fanning out on the pillow under her head. She didn’t seem to have noticed Emma. Seemed far too busy looking at the lair’s ceiling and vocalizing. And bending her right leg. Her feet were bare, Emma noticed. Not staring at the amount of skin on display was excruciatingly difficult for her. That nightgown was not covering much, and Emma’s mouth was going increasingly more dry the more Regina was flexing and relaxing her thigh. 

Damnit. Her mind was bluescreening very quickly. Emma couldn’t for the lift of her remember what she had came here to do in the first place.

Regina hummed absentmindedly to herself. Now Emma recognized the melody. ‘Angel of Music’. She wondered if this was how Regina spent her alone time. Laying on her back in the boat-bed and humming to herself. That had to be ridiculously boring. It was moments like these that made Emma think about her and Regina in an apartment somewhere in Paris. Where they could be free to do whatever they wanted. 

Regina picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it between her fingers. Then she wiggled her toes slightly. She was clearly bored out of her mind. Or perhaps feeling lazy. The way she slowly was humming certainly suggested so. 

Or maybe she was ill. Emma considered it. Regina didn’t LOOK very ill, but you never knew. Emma had never experienced her just laying here. Usually, Regina was either playing on the little keyboard or composing music. Or both. Emma always loved when Regina composed. She loved just sitting and watching Regina create beautiful music. Sometimes she would play the finished piece for Emma and ask her what she thought about it. 

Emma’s answer was always the same of course. That the music was wonderful.

“You should know better than to spy on me.”

Emma flinched slightly when Regina’s calm voice broke the silence. She had not expected that. “I was not s-spying on you,” she stuttered. “I was just-“

“Spying on me,” Regina lazily interrupted. “Shame on you. Do you know what I do to lurkers? I punish them.”

“Uhh...” Emma pushed her glasses up her nose. She honestly wasn’t sure whether to be ‘punished’ was good or bad. 

Regina barked out a laugh. “Relax, dear. I’m merely joking.”

“Oh.” Emma shifted slightly. Slipped off her backpack and sat it down on the ground. “Are you sick?” she asked. 

“No, my angel,” Regina drawled. “Why on earth would I be sick?”

“Because you’re just... laying there.”

“Is that a crime?”

“No! Of course not! I was just-“

“I’m hungover,” Regina interrupted matter of factly. “After you left last night, I found a bottle of wine tucked away in a forgotten corner of the lair. And it was simply too tempting.” 

“Oh.” Emma had noticed that Regina sometimes tended to drink quite a bit, but she didn’t feel like it was her place to address the matter. So instead she nodded towards the boat-bed and asked: “can I get in?” 

Regina turned her head. “In where?” 

“In the... In the bed.” 

Regina’s mouth seemed to twist a little under the white mask. “That’s hardly a good idea.” 

“But there aren’t any good places to sit in here,” Emma pointed out. And that was actually true. Apart from the boat-bed, the room behind the curtain was pretty bare. 

“Fine,” Regina surrendered. “But no funny business, Little Swan.” 

“Funny business?” Emma repeated as she climbed into the boat bed. 

“You know what I mean,” Regina said half-scoldingly as she grabbed a handful of the blanket and covered herself with it. 

Yes, Emma had a vague idea of what ‘funny business’ meant, but she had no plans of addressing Regina’s statement now. Instead she made herself comfortable and snuggled closer to Regina. Close enough to feel her cheek being tickled by Regina’s dark hair. Close enough to be able to smell the apple-scent in Regina’s hair. Regina had borrowed her shower yesterday before the two of them headed down to the lair. After the ‘under the bed business’ as Regina called it, she didn’t want to risk being in Emma’s room for too long. 

“This is nice,” Emma murmured once she was laying properly snuggled up under the thin blanket. 

“Yes,” Regina said simply as she moved an inch or two away from Emma. 

Emma inched along with her. 

Regina sighed. “Little Swan....”

“I’m not doing anything,” Emma protested. But as she spoke, she lifted a hand and started to trace Regina’s jaw bone with a fingertip. Regina had such a perfect face. 

“Sure you don’t, Little Swan. Sure you don’t,” Regina murmured as she swiftly grabbed Emma’s hand. But instead of pushing it away, she brought it up to her lips and lightly kissed each knuckle slowly. 

Emma shivered. “That feels really nice.”

“Mmm. I’m sure it does, dear. Tell me about your day,” Regina encouraged as she kept kissing Emma’s knuckles one by one. 

“I...” Emma cleared her throat. “I can’t really concentrate.”

“I see. Should I stop then?”

“Please don’t,” Emma begged. 

Regina scowled again, but nevertheless kept kissing Emma’s knuckles. 

And Emma couldn’t resist stretching her neck and planting a kiss on Regina’s visible cheek. 

Of course that prompted Regina to scowl again. 

Emma ignored the scowl and planted another kiss. Close to the corner of Regina’s mouth. When Regina did not react to it, she dared planting a teeny tiny on her lips. Instead of scowling, Regina turned her head and welcomed the kiss. Her hand came up to rest on Emma’s cheek, and Emma nearly melted on the spot. Her brain always clouded up in a most delightful way whenever she was kissing Regina, and all these new ideas started to pop up in her mind. Ideas like... tossing a leg over Regina’s hips. Pushing her fingers into her hair. And perhaps even wiggling on top of Regina to be as close to her as she possibly could. Emma was thinking about things she had never thought about before. Wonderful, forbidden things that had made her blush and feel awkward in the past. Now she was blushing for other reasons. And she did not feel awkward in the slightest. She just felt overwhelmed by being this close to Regina. Overwhelmed and curious and eager to experience everything. She liked kissing. She liked it a lot. 

Emma moaned and parted her lips ever so slightly. She did not feel embarrassed about moaning even though she probably would have in the past. Now she did not care about controlling her reactions. 

She was much too busy kissing Regina and getting lost in the wonderful feelings coming with the kiss. Everything about kissing Regina was always so utterly perfect. 

But then Regina broke the kiss and pulled back slightly. Her mouth was scowling but her eyes sparkling when she said: “what did I say about funny business?”

“You said no funny business,” Emma muttered. 

“That’s entirely correct, my angel. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“Sorry?” Emma tried. 

Regina squinted at her. “That did not sound very genuine. Are you really?”

“No,” Emma said truthfully. 

“I thought so,” Regina sighed and rolled her eyes. “You cannot make this so difficult for me, Little Swan. I’m actually trying to do the right thing for once.”

“By making me feel frustrated?” Emma asked and thought about the delightful tingles she had felt in her stomach a moment ago. 

“By not corrupting you any further.”

“How can you be corrupting me by kissing me?” Emma wanted to know. “I was the one who started it, for god’s sake?”

“I’m all too aware. And what do you think would happen if we kept kissing?” Regina asked simply. 

“Well...” Emma bit her lip when she thought about her desire to be as close to Regina as possible. The thoughts that always completely overwhelmed her whenever she was kissing Regina. “Uhmmm..”

“Exactly,” Regina said with a slight chuckle as she lightly patted Emma’s cheek. “That’s what I mean. You cannot overestimate my ability to hold back like that.”

“Why do you have to hold back?” Emma heard herself ask. Apparently, her brain-to-mouth filter was not functioning at the moment. Perhaps that was another side effect from kissing Regina. 

“It’s for your own good, my dear,” Regina said patiently as she sat up in the boat bed and then swung one leg over the edge. 

“I fail to see how,” Emma grumbled. 

Regina laughed softly at her. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what, exactly?” 

“Me. Or perhaps yourself. It depends. Either way, stop tempting me.”

“Am I tempting you?” Emma asked doubtfully and glanced down at herself. Her crinkled dress and rumbled cardigan. 

“Yes,” Regina said shortly. “You do.” 

Emma found that to be very hard to believe. But Regina seemed to genuine, so of course Emma believed her. 

Regina elegantly climbed out of the boat-bed and stood on the floor. Crouched down and grabbed a delicate looking ivory-white dressing gown with long sleeves. 

Emma watched as Regina slipped on the dressing gown and belted it around her waist. She pulled at her hair, so it spilled down her back instead of being tugged away under the collar of the dressing gown. The dressing gown was so long it dragged against the floor when she moved. 

“You’re beautiful,” Emma said softly. 

Regina turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She flashed Emma a smile. “Why thank you, Little Swan. Come. I’m tired of spending time in this room.”

Emma grabbed her backpack and dutifully followed her into the bigger room in the lair. 

In there, Regina sat down on the floor and started running a brush through her dark locks. 

“Can I do that?” Emma asked spontaneously. 

Regina gave her an odd look. “You want to brush my hair?”

“Yes, please.” If she couldn’t be allowed to run her fingers through Regina’s silky locks, she could at least get the second best opportunity. Which was brushing Regina’s hair. 

“An odd request,” Regina commented. “But if it makes you comfortable, then by all means go ahead.” She waved the hairbrush in Emma’s direction. 

Emma eagerly came over to her and took the brush from her. Then she sat down behind her and started to gently run the brush through Regina’s silky locks. 

“If you pull at it, I’ll throw you out of the lair,” Regina darkly vowed. 

Emma laughed. Because even though Regina more or less constantly threatened her with that, she never actually did throw her out of the lair. 

“What would you like to sing tonight?” Regina asked after a moments silence in which Emma concentrated on brushing her hair. 

“I don’t know,” Emma said lightly, not really concentrating on the question as she snuck her fingers into Regina’s hair. “What would you like to sing?”

“I asked you first, dear. But perhaps you don’t feel like singing tonight?”

No, Emma actually didn’t. She had already done so much singing today. Mal had kept them in the auditorium FOREVER, and Emma was a bit tired of it. 

“I wanted to ask you about something,” Emma said as she continued to give Regina’s hair gentle strokes from root to tip. Regina’s hair slipped through the brush like water. Emma could get used to this. She liked brushing Regina’s hair. 

“Yes?” Regina encouraged. “What about?”

“The, uhmm... the masquerade ball, actually,” Emma began. 

“Oh. What about the masquerade ball?” 

“I was...” Emma licked her lips. “I was wondering if it would be possible for you to... well, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” Regina said. Not unkindly. “You know I cannot go to the masquerade ball with you, dear. When I offered to go, it was because of the special situation.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts,” Regina said softly. “You know it’s too much of a risk. If someone finds out, both of us will be in big trouble. I would like to go with you, but I cannot.” 

Emma knew there was no arguments she could use. Because Regina was right. She hung her head slightly and stopped brushing Regina’s hair for a moment. 

“I’m sorry, dear,” Regina said, voice particularly gentle. So was her hands as she gently turned her upper body and cupped Emma’s cheeks. “But its just too risky.” 

“I understand that,” Emma nodded. She did. Even though it was tough. Then an idea popped into her mind. “But what about tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow?” Regina repeated, looking politely confused. 

“Mmm,” Emma nodded and became more eager. “Everyone is going into the city one last time before the concert. One last night of freedom before everything, I guess. But I’m not. I’m staying here. I’m not that interested in going to the city, so I figured that maybe you and I could spend the evening together. You could come up to my room and we could eat dinner together up there instead of down here if you like. Maybe we could even watch a movie on my computer?”

Regina didn’t say anything for a while. She just sat and looked at Emma. She had a rather thoughtful look in her eyes, and for a moment Emma feared that she had just gruesomely overstepped some kind of boundary. 

But then Regina chuckled almost heartedly. “Emma Swan,” she said slowly. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re asking me on a DATE.”

“Well,” Emma blushed a little. She hadn’t actually thought about it. But she was now. And she had said both ‘dinner’ and ‘movie’. That definitely did sound like a date. 

Regina chuckled. “Having dinner in your room instead of down here sounds nice, but I have a feeling we will not be able to agree on a movie, so I think we should do something else instead.”

“Oh?” Emma said intrigued. “Like what?”

Regina answered that question with another. “Did you say that everyone is going into the city tomorrow night?” 

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. 

“As in... everyone?” 

“Yes,” Emma said again. She knew for a fact that everyone would be going. The opera house would be quite deserted. 

Regina smiled now. “So the auditorium will be deserted.”

“Yes. Exactly where are you going with this?” 

“Well...” Regina tapped Emma’s cheekbones lightly. “I was hoping to go down to the auditorium tomorrow night.”

“The auditorium? Why?” Emma was confused now. 

“Because....” Regina suddenly leaned in and kissed her cheek lightly. “I want to hear you sing on stage, Little Swan.” 

Oh god. “On stage?” Emma was slowly loosing track of the conversation because Regina was kissing her. 

“Mmm,” Regina drawled close to her ear. “Without the rest of the choir. Just you. On your own. Is that something you would be interested in?” she leaned in and kissed Emma again. This time on her jaw. 

Emma shivered from head to toe at that, and she willed herself to keep her hands in her lap. That was the only way Regina would keep kissing her. If she kept her hands to herself and didn’t get too eager. 

“Is it?” Regina husked in her ear. “Do you think you’ll sing for me tomorrow night? On the stage?”

“Yes,” Emma said immediately. Honestly, she probably would have said yes to taking a trip to the sun if that was what Regina wanted. 

“Truly?”

“Truly,” Emma breathlessly confirmed. And hoped that Regina would kiss her again. 

She did. She kissed Emma. Right underneath her ear, and Emma was unable to keep her reaction to herself. She let out a breath and tipped her head back in enjoyment. 

“You are making everything so hard,” Regina said. She had said that many times before over the past month. Now she was pushing Emma’s blonde hair away to expose her neck further. “So hard,” she   
murmured before leaning in and kissing Emma again. This time on the neck. 

Emma’s hormones nearly ran completely amok at that. She let go of the hairbrush and grasped Regina’s hands tightly instead. If she really had to stay grounded, she needed something to hold on to. Her toes curled in her ballerina shoes when she felt Regina hum into her skin. Emma did not recognize the melody. Of course not. Her mind was far too cloudy to recognize anything at the moment. 

“This is where you’re supposed to stop me,” Regina muttered in warning as her lips travelled up Emma’s neck again. 

“Don’t wanna,” Emma said simply. She really, really did not!

“Then I must stop myself,” Regina said firmly. She planted one last kiss at the corner of Emma’s mouth and then pulled back once again. 

“Seriously?” it bursted out of Emma, and she couldn’t hold back a frustrated grimace either. 

“Yes,” Regina said, slightly breathlessly. “I’ve already kissed you far too many times tonight.” 

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, but I KNOW so,” Regina said and sounded almost tender as she pushed Emma’s hair back in place, so it covered her neck again. Like she was some kind of vampire and not a human. “I must be stronger than this.” 

“Whyyyy,” Emma complained and sounded exactly like an ordinary seventeen year old. “Why can’t we just...”

Regina grew serious again. “You know why,” she said and traced the edge of the white half-mask on her face. 

Emma nodded, came to her senses again. She did know. Knew why Regina held back. Because of the mask. Because Regina was not ready to take off the mask. And as long as she was not that, she could   
not give Emma everything. 

Emma had never asked about the mask or begged Regina to take it off. She never would. It was Regina herself who had started talking about it. Had openly admitted that she was not yet ready for Emma to see her face. She was afraid that everything between them would change if she took off her mask. 

Emma had not said anything while Regina held her little speech. She had simply nodded. But she had known in her heart that nothing would change. She would never be afraid of Regina. Never. And she   
did not care what was underneath the mask. She really truly did not. 

“I’m sorry,” she said a tad hoarsely when noting that Regina had not said anything for a while, and that she looked rather far away. Emma gave her hands a little squeeze. “Are you mad at me?” 

Regina chuckled and freed one of her hands from Emma’s grasp to pat her cheek lightly. “No, my angel. I am not ‘mad’ at you. Perhaps a tad mad at myself for not being strong enough to do the decent thing.” 

Emma couldn’t help but smile a little. “I would say I’m sorry because it’s my fault, but....”

“You’re not feeling a bit sorry,” Regina said and clearly tried to scowl, but failed utterly and ended up smiling instead. 

“No,” Emma willingly admitted. “Not really. I like when you kiss me.”

“I know you do.” Regina brushed a thumb over Emma’s chin. “You are... an excellent cure for hangovers.”

Emma grinned sheepishly at the odd compliment. “Thanks.” 

“Now then...” Regina clapped her hands lightly. “That’s enough kissing, I think. Tell me something. Anything. About your day.”

That really had Emma chuckling. And then she told Regina about her day. 

Regina looked like she found it to be genuinely interesting. She made little compliments along the way and scowled slightly when Emma mentioned the phone call she’d had with her mom earlier and how she wasn’t entirely looking forward to them arriving in Paris. 

“I know it sounds really ungrateful,” Emma said apologetically, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I just.... I don’t wanna miss out on time with you.”

“Little Swan.” Regina rolled those expressive eyes of hers. “You ARE aware that I’ll still be here when your parents go home, right?”

“But still,” Emma said stubbornly. “I’ll miss out on time with you.”

“You’ll survive, I’m sure,” Regina scoffed. 

Emma muttered under her breath. She wasn’t entirely sure of that. For someone who had spent every evening with Regina, just THINKING about spending her evenings elsewhere was terrible. 

Regina chuckled, patted her cheek again and then proclaimed: “I think my appetite just came back. Do you have some dinner for me tonight?” 

“Of course!” Emma said, quickly jumping to her feet and scurrying back to the room behind the curtain. In there she found her backpack and brought it back to the larger room where Regina was sitting on the floor. 

“Here,” she said briskly, unzipping the backpack and finding the food she had brought for Regina. 

“Thank you,” Regina said lightly. “I think I’ll start with the cookies for a change. Good for the hangover.”

Emma had never had a hangover, so she couldn’t say, but she nevertheless nodded. 

“Here,” Regina said, handing the other chocolate chip cookie to Emma. 

“But it’s for you,” Emma protested and shook her head. 

“And tonight I wish to share them with you.”

“But I- mph!” Emma was prevented from saying anything else when Regina leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips. And afterwards, she was entirely incapable of remembering what she had wanted to say, obviously. 

She and Regina ate each a chocolate cookie, and then Emma sang for Regina while she ate the other food. Today’s choice was ‘You Are Music’, and Regina looked thoroughly proud as Emma sang.

Emma smiled at her mentor. She was looking forward to tomorrow night where it would just be her and Regina in the opera house. In the auditorium. Emma was a bit nervous about that. She hadn’t tried singing solo on the stage. At least not like that. But she knew that she could do it. As long as Regina was beside her, she could do just about anything. Including singing on a stage....

To Be Continued........


	46. With Me On The Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm still alive. Grieving, but alive. Loosing your fur-baby is tough.

When Emma woke up the next morning, it was to the flutter of excitement low in her stomach. The day was finally here. The day where the entire choir and the teachers would go into the city and leave the opera house in an almost abandoned state. The place would be completely empty.

Save for one person, of course. 

Emma grinned as she hopped out of bed. She could not wait until the rest of the people left. Couldn’t wait until she and Regina could finally be together without having to hide. In her room and on the stage. Regina wanted her to sing on the stage. Emma was a bit nervous about that, but if she could sing in front of Regina in the lair, she could sing in front of her on the stage too. It was not that difficult was it?

She went into the bathroom switched on the water, undressed, and stepped under the spray of water. Before falling asleep last night, she had thought about exactly how she was supposed pull off the whole ‘staying behind while the rest of the school leaves’-thing. She had considered various options, but had managed to narrow it down to two different options, and as she stood under the spray of water, washing her hair, she thought about them again. Option A: she stood in line with the rest of the choir and when they left the opera house, she fell back and disappeared. Perhaps under the pretense of grabbing something she had forgotten. 

But that option wasn’t completely bullet-proof. There was always the risk that someone would grow suspicious and go back to fetch her. 

That left her with option B: feigning an illness. Not a serious one, of course. Not one that would cause major concern. Just a headache. A stomach ache. Something minor. But nevertheless something that effectively prevented her from going to the Louvre and followingly eat dinner at the restaurant with the others. 

Emma was pretty sure she could lie herself out of going to Louvre and the restaurant, but that plan was not completely solid either. There was the risk of someone wanting to stay behind with her. A teacher. Or another student. Well. Then she would just have to convince whoever that she wasn’t THAT ill and just needed the day to rest. Oooh. Perhaps she could say that she had a sore throat. That would prompt everyone to leave her alone. Everyone was afraid of getting a sore throat so close to the concert. 

Emma chuckled quietly to herself. She was a genius. A lying genius. But nevertheless, a genius. She pushed the guilty conscience as far away as she possibly could. She had to do what she could to be with Regina. People did all sorts of things when they were in love. 

As she stood under the spray of hot water and thought about her feelings, she suddenly heard a faint creak. Coming from inside her room. Of course Emma was not afraid, how could she possibly be when she knew who it was? The only thing she was afraid of, was missing out. 

As fast as lightening almost, Emma rinsed the shampoo out of hair, nearly blinding herself in the process. By the time she was done, her eyes were burning, and her hair was definitely not rinsed properly, but that didn’t matter. She could still hear faint creaks from her room. Which meant that she still had a chance of seeing Regina before tonight. Emma stumbled out the shower and clumsily shrugged on a robe. Then she literally ran out of the bathroom. 

Regina was still there. She was standing at the foot of Emma’s unmade bed and appeared to be studying the roses on Emma’s bedspread. She was wearing a pair of black leather leggings and a long red velvet coat with a train so long it could almost be mistaken for a dress. Her hair had been pulled away from the visible side of her face and was hanging in curls. A top her head was a black hat with feathers. Apart from the familiar white half-mask, every article of clothing Regina was wearing was something that Emma had not seen before. Regina looked stunning. Like something taken out of a reign-tale. 

“Hi,” Emma said a bit breathlessly because of her speed shower. And probably also because Regina was in her room. 

Regina took one look at Emma, said a quick ‘oh dear’ and then hastily turned around. 

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, puzzled at Regina’s strange behavior. 

“Your robe needs adjusting, dear,” came Regina’s toneless response. 

“What?” Emma glanced down and realized that her left breast was nearly exposed because of the way the robe was sitting. She felt how not just her cheeks, but her entire face heated up as she quickly retied the robe tighter and more securely around herself. Now nothing was nearly.... popping out. “You can... You can turn back around now,” she said halfheartedly. 

Regina graciously turned back around. She did not seem flushed in any way, Emma noted. And actually felt a twinge of annoyance. It would have been nice to get SOME kind of reaction. 

“For you,” Regina said, interrupting Emma’s stream of thoughts as she brought out a red rose seemingly from one of her pockets and handed it to Emma. Again, with a black ribbon tied around it. 

“Thank you,” Emma said, smiling as she took the rose from Regina. She brought it up to her nose and smelled it. Completely fresh. “Where do you get all those roses from?”

“That is my secret,” Regina half-chuckled. “Perhaps it would be better if you got dressed, dear.”

“Right,” Emma squeaked. “Of course. Sorry for..” she gestured vaguely towards her robe. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Regina frowned. “I was the one who came bursting into your room.” 

“I don’t mind that.” 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

“I don’t,” Emma said firmly.

Regina scoffed again. “Perhaps I should announce myself before coming into your room. That way we can avoid...” she trailed off and her eyes briefly wandered to the neckline of Emma’s bathrobe. Then she cleared her throat. “Do forgive me. I’m forgetting my manners.”

“I don’t mind that either,” Emma said, feeling slightly breathless again. And with the sudden but intense urge to open her robe and let it drop to the floor.

“Do not give me that look, Little Songbird,” Regina scolded.

“I did not know that I was giving you any look.”

“Well, you do,” Regina said, snickering slightly. “You have a certain look in your eyes, and you must stop that. You think me much stronger than I am.” Another chuckle. “But I am not.”

Emma licked her lips. “And what exactly are you fighting right now?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know,” Regina said darkly and brushed invisible dust off her velvet coat.

“Yes I do,” Emma insisted. “Tell me. Please?”

“Well...” Regina rolled her eyes and adjusted her hat slightly. “I currently have the intense urge to kidnap you. Was that what you wanted to hear?”

Well... “Yes,” Emma said simply. She wouldn’t mind being kidnapped by Regina at all.

“You are incorrigible,” Regina said with a shake of her head. 

“I wish I could go with you now,” Emma openly admitted.

Regina shook her head again. “I think I chose to stop by too early. You are saying silly things.”

“I am not,” Emma protested. “I am just being honest.”

“Too honest,” Regina corrected, clicking her tongue. “Far, far too honest, my dear.”

“You don’t like hearing that I care about you,” Emma said simply.

“That’s correct, I don’t,” Regina said almost lightly. “But I don’t suppose I can change your mind about that?”

“You cannot,” Emma said firmly but felt insecure for a moment. “Does that mean you have changed your mind about me?”

“Would I have given you a rose if that was the case?” Regina asked and raised one well-sculped eyebrow. 

Emma smiled. No, Regina would not have given her a rose if her feelings had changed. 

“There’s your answer then. Now, I must be on my way. And you need to get breakfast. I will see you later.” She turned around to walk back to the mirror where she came from, but changed her mind halfway there and walked back to Emma. 

Before Emma could as much as blink, Regina had pressed a very light kiss to her forehead, and then she had disappeared through the mirror, leaving Emma to stand in the middle of the room with the rose still in her hand. And a forehead that burned where Regina’s lips had touched it. 

After a moment, she pulled herself together and reminded herself that she was actually supposed to do things and be in places. She walked over to the dresser and found fresh underwear and her usual white-choir dress. There were no rehearsals today because of the expedition later, but she had grown so accustomed to the choir dress.

As she shrugged off her bathrobe and reached for her underwear, she blushed at how her bathrobe had been sitting all askew. Had she been running a little quicker back to her room, she definitely would have ended up flashing Regina. God. Emma’s throat suddenly felt very dry. Of course Regina had been polite enough to turn her back. Emma was always the one with the hormones. The one who craved more...

No. Emma shook her head. She was being unfair. Regina had just confessed that she wanted to ‘kidnap’ her. Emma had only vague idea about what that meant, but she was certain that she would enjoy it. 

She put on her clothes and went into the bathroom to brush out her hair. It was tangled after the speed-shower, but she refused to wash it out again. She tied it back in a tight braid. Applied a bit of mascara to her lashes. Decided to settle with that for now. She was supposed to give off the impression that she wasn’t feeling well. She couldn’t look too overly perky. To add to the impression that she was unwell, Emma fetched a scarf in her dresser and tied it around her neck. She also chose one of her warmest cardigans. And she was already good at sounding timid. Which would be important if she was to feign having a sore throat. 

Her guilty conscience reared its head again, but then she remembered the way Regina had kissed her forehead. The way Regina had told her that she wanted to ‘kidnap’ her. And that made everything, all the lies worthwhile. 

She looked at her face in the mirror, for a moment hoping that she would see Regina. But of course Emma did not. Regina never lingered in the morning. And although Emma knew it was for a good reason, it still irritated her right now. She wished that Regina would have lingered just a little. So they could have talked some more. Or perhaps kissed some more.

Emma’s belly curled at the thought of kissing Regina, and for a moment she wished that she had been more devilish. Devilish enough to grab onto the collar of Regina’s coat-dress. Devilish enough to loop her arms around Regina’s neck. 

But unfortunately enough, she had not been devilish enough to do that. She would be tonight, though. Tonight she would kiss Regina as if her life depended on it. Sometimes it felt like it did. Sometimes it felt like every moment where she did not kiss Regina was one that was wasted. 

Emma adjusted her glasses slightly and scrutinized her face in the mirror one more time. She looked perfectly normal and wallflower-esque in her woolen cardigan and glasses and with her hair braided tightly. 

And now she really had to leave. Unfortunately. Her gaze flickered towards the mirror, and her hands were practically itching to push the mirror back and reveal the hole behind it. If only she could disappear through that hole right now. If only nobody would be missing her if she chose to leave for a day or so. 

But people would miss her. She was not completely invisible no matter how much she wanted to be. Emma couldn’t hold back a little sigh as she went into the bathroom and filled another glass with water.   
Then she went back to her room and put the rose inside the glass. She wanted it to stay fresh as long as she could. And she would of course be saving all the black ribbons tied around the roses. She could wear them as hairbands. Or around her wrists like bracelets. It did not matter. As long as she wore them in one way or the other. 

Realizing that she could not be dawdling any longer, Emma hastily left her room and started walking down the hallway. Her legs felt heavy, and she scoffed because she needed to pull herself together. 

She only needed to get through it until this afternoon. Then everybody would be leaving, and it would just be her left. And Madame Potts. But she was the cook, and Emma doubted she would be bothering her. 

No, it would just be her and Regina tonight. Emma felt another thrill of excitement low in her stomach. She could barely wait for this place to be deserted. Right now, it was full of people. Choir-members talking and laughing. Halfway to the canteen, Emma nearly ran into Killian who as usually was full of bad jokes. Emma laughed, mostly to be polite, but she got genuinely excited when Killian asked her an interesting question:

“So, Swan... Do you know if Lily has asked anyone for the masquerade ball?”

“I don’t think she has,” Emma replied. And tried not to grin. 

“Oh. Well then,” Killian said, smiling. “Great.”

Indeed it was great. It sounded very much like Killian was about to ask Lily out.

In the canteen, everyone was naturally buzzing with excitement about the upcoming trip out of the opera house. 

“What about you, Em?” Lily asked. “Are you not excited to go?”

“I’m not sure I feel to good,” Emma croaked and thanked her lucky stars for her hoarse morning voice. 

“Oh my god,” Lily said. “You sound completely...”

“My throat is pretty sore,” Emma rasped. It was almost as though the universe was HELPING her lie. Incredible. 

“Oh no!” Lily exclaimed. “Oh, Em! Don’t you think it’ll get better once you’ve had some tea?”

“Maybe,” Emma said, still croaking. Could she really pull this off? Would it really be that easy? 

Yes, it would appear so. 

“That really sucks,” Lily said sympathetically, patting Emma’s arm. 

“It’s better that I get it now and not the day before the concert,” Emma said. Ever the voice of reason. 

“That’s true. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“Of course not. You should go. See something else besides the opera house,” Emma encouraged. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. Absolutely.” Emma reached for the cup of tea she had fetched and took a small sip.

After a moment, Belle and Ruby came over and joined them for breakfast, and Lily did not hesitate to tell them about Emma’s ‘illness’. 

“Oh, shoot,” Belle said, eyes widening as she looked at Emma. “Really?” 

“My throat is pretty sore,” Emma croaked. Now she had to fake it. The morning rasp had disappeared from her voice when she took that sip of tea. 

“That’s really too bad,” Belle said. She too was very sympathetic as she gently touched Emma’s shoulder. 

“You’ve been so unlucky with these things,” Ruby commented. “The last time we went out, you couldn’t come either because you had a headache.”

“Yeah,” Emma shrugged lightly. “Maybe it’s some kind of stress reaction. I mean, we have been pretty busy lately.”

“That’s true,” Belle agreed. “But hey, now its almost time for the concert. The craziness is almost over with.”

“Thank god for that,” Lily said dryly. “I swear, mom’s been breathing fire lately.”

Everyone chuckled lightly at that. Though Emma made sure to cough right after. Just to be on the safe side....

Of course Malena was informed of Emma’s ‘illness’, and even though she offered to stay behind herself or find another teacher who could, Emma declined the offer and insisted that she could stay here alone. She would just be sleeping anyway, and it was ridiculous that a teacher would have to stay back just for that. 

Malena was concerned but swayable when Emma reminded her that the cook, Madame Potts would be here too. She wouldn’t be completely alone. That convinced Malena completely, and it was decided that no one except for Madame Potts would stay behind with Emma. 

Emma was relieved. And a little surprised. This had all been very easy. Too easy, almost. Had she been a more pessimistic nature, she would assume that it meant trouble ahead. But she refused to be that person. Why should she be negative when the issues preventing her from spending the evening with Regina had just been eliminated? Being negative would be ridiculous. 

Did she feel guilty for lying for her teachers and friends? Absolutely. But there were no other options. 

She sipped her tea and feigned her illness as best as she could while she silently glanced at the big clock on the wall in the canteen. Counted the hours, minutes, seconds until she could see Regina again. 

What was she doing right now? Was she composing or playing the keyboard? Or perhaps she was sleeping. She often did that during the day time. Sometimes she joked that she was a bit of a vampire. 

Emma had mulled a lot over that statement. She supposed that Regina did look like a vampire with the clothes she wore. It was so extravagant. Sometimes Emma tried to picture Regina in normal clothes like jeans and t-shirt or a sweater, but she just couldn’t. The extravagant dresses was as much a part of Regina as the white half-mask was. 

Thinking about Regina made Emma absent, and she quickly remembered that she was holding a cup of tea. She drank the rest of it and ate the rest of her oatmeal. Now all she had to was wait. Which was gonna be excruciating, but bearable, nevertheless. Just play her role and wait not-so-patiently. And while she waited, she watched as Killian chatted with Lily. Emma liked what she saw. It looked like Lily and Killian had a good time chatting. The only little minor thing was that Lily glanced at her now and then. Like she was somehow seeking Emma’s approval. 

Emma smiled encouragingly at Lily. She more than gave her approval for this. Seeing Lily get over her crush and be with someone new. And as far as Emma could judge, Killian was pretty much everything   
Lily was looking for. Extroverted. Outgoing. The completely opposite of everything Emma was. 

Lily’s crush had very much put the spotlight onto Emma, and if that spotlight could go away quietly, Emma would be so very grateful.....

That afternoon, Emma was standing at the grand staircase so she could say goodbye to everyone as they left. She was a hundred percent impatient, but she did her best to appear calm. 

“See you later, Em,” Lily said as she passed Emma. 

“Yeah. See you later. Have fun.” 

Lily’s mouth twisted in sympathy. “Feel better, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” Emma promised. She already felt pretty good. But she would feel even better once she got to see Regina. This day had just been dragging on and dragging on. The hours had stretched out endlessly in front of her, and Emma had been so impatient she could have screamed the entire opera house down. 

“Come on, Lily,” Killian said impatiently. “Paris waits for nobody!”

“Moron,” Lily said quietly, but she was smiling at the same time.

“Plenty of rest,” Belle reminded Emma as when she passed her on the stairs. 

“I’ll remember that. Where’s Ruby?” as always, it was odd to see one and not the other.

“Bathroom,” Belle rolled her eyes. “Always right before we have to go anywhere. I think her grandma has drilled the habit into her or something like that.”

Emma chuckled. “Right.” 

“She’ll be here in a sec. Remember to drink plenty of tea. See you later!”

“See you,” Emma said, and then Belle followed in Lily and Killian’s footsteps down the stairs. After her came a new stream of students. Mme. Carlotta and the rest of the teachers, the last one being Mal who once again asked Emma if she was certain about being okay with staying in the opera house alone. 

“I’m sure,” Emma said quickly. “I’ll probably make some tea and go to bed with a good book. Try to rest as much as I can.”

“That sounds like a very sensible plan, miss Swan,” Malena praised. “Plenty of rest and hot beverage. I’m sure that will make it go away quickly. But if not, I will ask Doc to take a look at your throat tomorrow and give you some medicine so you can be in tiptop shape for the concert. Does that sound alright?” 

“It sounds fine,” Emma smiled. 

“Excellent.” Malena patted her shoulder. “Back to bed now, Miss Swan. I’ve spoken to Madame Potts. She will send some soup up to your room in about an hour.”

“That sounds good. See you later, Malena.”

Malena bid her a good night, and once she too had left, Emma turned around and walked back up the stairs. Halfway up, she met Ruby who was walking down the stairs. 

“Oh hey,” Emma said. “Belle’s already left.” 

“I know. I’ll try and catch up with her,” Ruby said calmly. Didn’t seem too worried about catching up with her girlfriend. 

“Have a nice evening,” Emma wished the older girl. 

“Thank you. Feel better.” 

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll feel much better once I’ve gotten some rest.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure you will. See ya.”

They parted ways. Ruby went down the stairs while Emma went up. She tried not to run. Tried not to appear too eager. Reminded herself that she was supposed to be sick. Sick people did not run up the stairs. She waited until she was certain she couldn’t hear Ruby’s footsteps any longer, and then she finally started jogging up the large staircase. Now she really was in a hurry to get back to her room. She couldn’t be certain exactly when Regina would show up in her room, and Emma would like the opportunity to freshen up a little before she arrived. 

She felt completel giddy as she ran up the stairs. Couldn’t believe that she actually had pulled this off. She had successfully convinced everyone that she was sick, and although she probably should be feeling guilty about lying, she couldn’t help but to feel impressed at herself. For someone who hadn’t lied before she had arrived in Paris, she was doing a damn fine job if she said so herself. 

Once the staircase had been successfully braved, Emma hurried along down the corridor towards her room. When she was nearly there, she found the smiling Madame Potts who had arrived with her soup. 

Great timing, Emma thought to herself. Now they did not have to worry about Madame Potts showing up unexpectedly. She thanked the cook, accepted the soup, and then finally made it inside her room. 

She did not lock the door tonight. For once, she did not have to. 

She sat the bowl of soup down on her little nightstand, and then she hurried inside the bathroom to do something about her appearance. 

The first thing she did was pulling her hair free of the tight braid. Ringlets of gold immediately fell around her face, and Emma only gave them a quick brushing, so she didn’t ruin the curls. She shrugged off the boring, woolen cardigan and smoothened her dress slightly. Then she found her red lipstick and applied a bit to her lips. Took off her glasses and added a dash more mascara to her lashes. Now she did not look like the meek girl who feigned a sore throat this morning. She fluffed up her hair and scrutinized her reflection in the mirror. Was this too much? Was she overdoing it? This was a lot for someone who had never previously worn a lot of makeup. 

But she rather liked this look on herself. 

Emma smiled encouragingly at her reflection. She looked nice. Maybe she would start wearing makeup on a regular basis. And she was ready now. Ready to wait for Regina. 

But when she returned to her room, she discovered that waiting would not be required. 

Regina was already sitting on her bed. Completely nonchalantly with her legs elegantly crossed, still wearing her hat. And eating Emma’s soup. 

“Hi,” Emma grinned, delighted at seeing Regina again. 

“You’re dressed this time,” Regina commented. “How quaint.” 

“Yeah,” Emma blushed a little at the memory. 

“I’m eating your soup by the way,” Regina said nonchalantly. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t,” Emma chuckled. Madame Potts had also given her a sanwich, and that would be plenty of food for her. 

Regina dunked the spoon into the soup and let it slip between her lips. She looked at Emma and when she moved the spoon away from her mouth, she said: “you look very nice tonight, Little Swan.”

Emma blushed at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you. You look beautiful.”

Regina scoffed. But then she smiled a little. “Thank you.”

“I’ve missed you,” Emma said. She couldn’t help it. 

“You saw me this morning,” Regina pointed out but nevertheless patted the available spot on the bed. “Come. Sit.”

Emma of course walked over and sat down next to Regina. “Is the soup any good?”

“Decent.” Regina wrinkled her nose in a way that made Emma laugh, and the following look Regina then gave her did nothing to lessen her amusement. She was nearly giggling now. Nearly. She would never admit it out loud.

“Cheeky,” Regina commented and scowled at Emma. “Careful I don’t get angry.”

Of course that only prompted Emma to laugh even harder. 

And Regina, who had been so busy scowling, smiled and said: “I like it when you laugh, Little Swan.”

Emma blushed again. Harder this time. She liked when Regina laughed too. So much. It was one of her favorite sounds. That and Regina singing, of course. That was her favorite sound ever. 

“You should eat dinner,” Regina said firmly. “I don’t want you to go hungry.”

“Then why did you eat my soup?” Emma asked sweetly and tilted her head innocently at Regina. 

“It was just standing there and getting cold,” Regina scoffed. 

Well. That was actually true. Snickering to herself, Emma grabbed the sandwich and began eating. It tasted very good. Madame Potts was a very good cook. 

“So, are we really going to the stage?” she asked between mouthfuls of bread. 

“Oh yes,” Regina smirked. “Indeed we are, Little Swan. I want to hear you sing on stage. Do you think you can do that?” 

“Yes,” Emma said immediately. She had no idea of how she would feel about singing on a large stage in front of Regina, but of course she was going to say yes no matter what. 

“Good,” Regina chuckled. “We should get moving then.” she elegantly swallowed the rest of the soup, and Emma hurried as she ate the rest of her sandwich. Eating dinner was not the most important thing in the world right now, not when she could sing for Regina instead. Sing for her and WITH her. As soon as she was done eating, she wanted to get up and get a move on as soon as possible, but she was prevented from doing so when she suddenly felt Regina’s fingers in her hair. Shivers ran down her spine, and she was very glad that she had decided to let her hair hang loose tonight. 

“You have such lovely hair, my dear,” Regina said lowly as her fingers effortlessly weaved through Emma’s blonde locks. 

“Thank you,” Emma squeaked. She wanted to say something sweet back in return, but to her distress, she wasn’t capable of saying anything whatsoever. Not as long as Regina had her fingers in her hair. 

“Lovely,” Regina said again. She moved her fingers out of Emma’s hair and gently grasped her chin instead, urging her to turn her head. 

Emma willingly did so, and the next second she was being kissed oh so softly by Regina. More chills ran down her spine, and a certain heat rushed to her stomach. It felt like it was full of molten lava, and Emma’s first instinctive thought was how much she yearned to push Regina down on the small bed and position herself on top of her. Regina made her burn. Made her feel all sorts of things that both thrilled her and made her a little scared. She was not used to feeling like this. She was not used to having all these thoughts about another person. She reached up, cupped the sides of Regina’s face. One smooth cheek and one cold mask. Emma was used to the cold mask by now. It didn’t bother her. The mask never bothered her. Sometimes she had wondered whether it was odd for Regina to kiss while she was wearing it, but if that was the case, Regina was good at hiding it. 

Emma let out a surprised little groan when she felt the tip of Regina’s tongue run across her lips, and instinctively, Emma parted them. This was usually the point where Regina would pull back, laugh, and say that they shouldn’t get carried away. But she did not do that today. Instead her tongue slipped inside Emma’s mouth, and Emma moaned again, certain that this was how she was going to die. Kissing   
Regina and feeling extremely happy. She wouldn’t mind that one bit. Another breathless moan escaped her, and she was certain that she could feel music rolling in her veins. Could hear music every time she and Regina kissed each other. Music... Sunbursts of music.

Regina’s long fingers were on her cheeks now. Her grip on Emma’s face so very tight, but Emma did not mind that at all. She was much too busy feeling all the emotions Regina’s kiss gave her. Something shivered in her belly, and Emma had to wiggle when she felt her nipples pucker and tighten despite the warm temperature in her room. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and suddenly the urge to lay down on the bed with Regina on top of her was overwhelming. The tip of Regina’s tongue wrapped around her own. Sucked gently. Emma’s head was floating. Or so it felt. She couldn’t form any coherent thoughts whatsoever. Was no longer in charge over what she was doing. She moaned again, sharper this time, wished there was some way she could be even closer to Regina. She needed air, but no way she was going to break this kiss until she absolutely had to. Something was happening to her. She was starting to throb slightly between her legs, and it felt so good it was almost painful. She had never needed to be touched as much as she needed it right now, and she wasn’t even sure HOW she needed to be touched. What she could do to make the throbbing sensation between her legs go away. Of course she knew what was going on. She wasn’t dumb. She had felt this sensation before. When Regina was singing. But it had been nothing more than just the faintest yearning then. This was so much stronger. So strong her head was spinning and overflowing with ideas. Maybe she should just lie down on the bed. Yank Regina down on top of her. 

Regina’s fingers were no longer on her cheeks. Instead they were trailing down the sides of Emma’s neck, prompting Emma to shiver once again. And then whimper slightly when Regina gave her bottom lip a slight little nip. That was not something she had done before either, but Emma immediately liked it and hoped that Regina would do it again. It felt like the blood in her veins were almost bubbling. 

She was burning. It was a mere wonder that her clothes hadn’t melted right off of her. 

Emma squirmed on the bed again. Regina’s hands were gripping her shoulders now. Her fingers were almost digging into the soft flesh, but it did not hurt Emma. It only made her feel even more. Caused a moan to spill from her lips. Had her toes curling. Regina was still nipping at her bottom lip, and Emma wrapped her arms around Regna’s waist. This was the closest she had ever been to Regina, and she was going to take advance of that! She wished that Regina would kiss her everywhere. Her entire body. Emma was loosing whatever control she might have left, and she made no attempts at controlling her reactions as Regina deepened the kiss again, and one of her hands traveled down. She kept the left one planted on Emma’s shoulder, but her right hand traveled further down. Splayed on her collarbone and then continued down to her breast. 

Emma cried out sharply, broke the kiss and threw her head back when she felt Regina’s hand cup her right breast. God, this was exactly what she wanted!

But then Regina moved her hand away so quickly you would think that she had just burned herself. The mattress creaked slightly, and that of course prompted Emma to open her eyes and look at Regina. 

Regina was sitting in the opposite side of the bed. The distance between them so big now. 

“My apologies,” Regina said reservedly. Eyes staring blankly at the wall. 

Emma moved closer to her again. She didn’t want any distance between them! “Why are you apologizing?” she asked as she reached for Regina’s hand. 

“I’m forgetting my manners,” Regina said darkly. “Taking certain liberties with you.” 

“I wanted you to,” Emma said quickly. “The only thing I’m upset about, is that you’ve stopped.” She let out a noise of frustration. “WHY did you have to stop?” 

Regina let out a dark little chuckle. “At this point I think it would be better to ask why I started. I should not have.” 

“Yes, you should!” Emma immediately protested. “I liked it! I... liked it a lot!” she bit her lip and felt herself flushing again. 

“Oh, I’m aware,” Regina said almost glumly. “Believe me, I’m aware. I liked it too. Though I wish that I did not. I am... much too free with you.” 

“You are not,” Emma almost groaned. “I wish you would be freer.” She could not control what she was saying. 

“And I wish you would stop saying such things. It makes me insane,” Regina said simply. 

Emma gave a sort of nervous laughter. She was going ‘insane’ too. “I wish,” she began, but she knew better than to finish the sentence. 

“Emma,” Regina sighed. “Don’t.” 

“Sorry.” 

Regina stood from the bed. “I don’t think that you are, dear. Not really. You have to stop wishing for things.” She frowned. “And I have to be better at not touching you.” 

“No, you shouldn’t,” Emma mumbled. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“Yes I do! I’m not stupid, you know.” 

“I never said you were, dear,” Regina said. “I just wish you would stop offering- no.” she rolled her eyes. “This is all on me. I am the oldest one here. I’m the one who have to stop. Not you.” 

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Regina clearly pretended not to hear that. Then she extended a hand out towards Emma. “Come, dear. Let’s go to the stage. If you still want to, that is.” 

“Of course I do,” Emma said, swiftly grabbing Regina’s hand and letting her pull her up from the bed...

*****************

They did not take the direct way to the auditorium. Instead Regina lead Emma back through the mirror. Back to the lair where she showed Emma yet another secret passageway. This one was behind the boat-bed in the room behind the curtain. All Regina had to do was to push yet another curtain out of the way to reveal the hidden hole behind it. Emma was delighted at discovering yet another secret tunnel, and she willingly followed Regina through it. 

The tunnel lead up, up, up for a long time until they reached another hatch. Regina opened the hatch and wiggled through it, and then it was Emma’s turn. Regina helped her up, and soon she found herself in between colorful fabric and heavy dresses. It did not take her long to figure out where she was. In the costume room in the auditorium. So she had been right to assume that Regina had disappeared through a hidden hole that time she had surprised her in the costume room. 

“Very clever,” Emma commented as they ducked out from under the clothes. 

“Yes, indeed,” Regina chuckled, running her hand lightly through her hair because it had gotten a bit tanged. 

“How many of these kind of passages are there?” Emma wondered out loud.

“I’m not sure,” Regina admitted. “Some of them I made myself, but others were already here when I arrived.”

“I wondered who made those,” Emma mused. 

“Someone with a sense of humor, I’m sure,” Regina chuckled, taking Emma’s hand again. “Come.” 

Emma followed her out of the costume room and into the auditorium. The place somehow looked different now that it was just the two of them here. The stage seemed bigger. The velvet seats farther away and the ceiling much higher. And there was no Malena to boss her around and order her to sing. 

Emma took a walk around the stage and absentmindedly started to hum to herself. Eventually, the humming turned into the vocalizing from ‘The Little Mermaid’. That always worked nicely as warmup. 

“Lovely,” Regina complimented softly. “I like seeing you on stage, my dear. This is where you belong. In the front. Not in the backrow of some silly choir.”

“I like being in the choir, though,” Emma said.

“I’m sure you do, but it is not where you belong,” Regina said matter of factly. “You are destined for bigger things.” 

“I don’t know if you’re right about that.” 

“I am. You have the voice to be the lead-soprano. But for tonight, let’s settle with pretending that you are. Sing.”

Emma opened her mouth. But no words came out. She suddenly found herself unable to sing. Because this was the stage. And it was just her. She had never sung on stage on her own. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then pulled herself together: “What would you like me to sing?” she asked her teacher. 

“Hmmm...” Regina pranced around on the stage like she owned it as she considered it. After a moment, she smiled mischievously. “How about.... ‘The Phantom of The Opera’?”

“Sure,” Emma said. She quickly filled her lungs with air and then began singing: ‘In sleep she sang to me, in dreams she came, that voice which calls to me and speaks my n-‘

“Stop,” Regina interrupted and held up her hand as she stopped prancing around. 

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. That was not at all right. Damnit!

“Don’t apologize,” Regina brushed her off. “Just explain to me why it did not work out correctly.”

“I sang from the wrong place,” Emma sighed, annoyed at herself. “I used my chest voice.”

“That’s correct,” Regina said. “That’s why your voice came out breathless. Happens to all of us sometimes.”

Emma scoffed. She had a feeling that it had never happened to Regina, and that she was just trying to meet her halfway.

“Let’s try again,” Regina said briskly. “With the correct voice, if you please, my dear.” She walked up behind Emma and placed her hand on her abdomen. “Pull the music deep from.... here.” her voice was velvet soft in Emma’s ear, and Emma couldn’t help but gasp slightly. Regina’s hand was so warm, and the slight touch was all it took to make it feel like her stomach was full of molten lava. 

“There I go again, breaking my own rules,” Regina sighed and made an attempt to move her hand away from Emma’s abdomen.

But Emma’s hand shot out and laid itself over Regina’s, preventing her from moving her hand away. And to distract Regina from trying again, she began singing once more: ‘In sleep she sang to me, in dreams she came.. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name...’

“That’s it,” Regina praised. “Keep going, dear.” Her hand was still resting heavily on Emma’s abdomen.

‘And do I dream again? For now I find..... The Phantom of The Opera is there, inside my mind...’

‘Sing once again with me, our strange duet,’ Regina softly sang in her ear as she pushed Emma’s hair away from her neck. ‘My power over you, grows stronger yet, and though you turn from me, to glance behind...’ she wiggled her hand out from underneath Emma’s, grasped her hands and turned her around to face her. ‘The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind....’ her dark eyes bored into Emma’s.

Emma could have melted on the spot. Regina’s voice sounded softer and even more seductive than usually. It gave her the same feelings as when she kissed Regina. ‘Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear,’ she sang as best as she could without getting distracted. ‘I am the mask you wear...’

‘It’s me they hear!’ Regina answered, voice honey-sweet and eyes gleaming with mischief. She grabbed Emma’s hand and spontaneously spun her around on the stage, nearly making Emma giggle. She liked it when Regina got all playful. It didn't happen very often, so it was definitely worth cherishing.

‘Your spirit, and my voice...’

‘My spirit and your voice...’

‘In one combines-‘

‘The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my/your mind!’

There were fever things Emma liked more than when her and Regina sang together. And singing on the stage where their voices could really be set free, was something completely else than singing in the lair. It sounded different here, and Regina’s mezzo soprano was made for stages like this one. 

‘In all your fantasies, you always knew,’ Regina sang as she took Emma’s hand and began to lead her across the stage. ‘That woman and mystery..’

‘Were both in you!’ Emma answered, unable to look away from Regina. Her gaze was burning and filled Emma with so much desire she could barely stand it. Barely concentrate. ‘And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my/your mind..’ she almost lost herself completely when Regina fell into the rhythm with her again. The little hairs on her arms stood up. 

Emma no longer feared singing on a stage. She only feared the moment it was over. 

‘Beware, the Phantom of the Opera,’ Regina teased as she spun Emma around once again and made her white dress fan out around her. 

Emma was starting to feel dizzy. But it had absolutely nothing to do with the spinning. It was because she knew what was coming. 

‘Sing, my Angel of Music,’ Regina crooned as she released Emma’s hand and glided her long fingers over Emma’s cheeks. Then she turned around and walked away from Emma.

‘She’s there, The Phantom of the Opera,’ Emma sang and let her voice drawl almost teasingly as she slowly began to walk across the stage, following Regina. If Regina could tease, so she could she. Probably not as good, but at least she was trying.

“Sing!” Regina commanded, lifting a long finger and pointing to Emma. Then she was crooking it slightly, now urging her closer. 

Emma began vocalizing as she now had done so many times before. Her voice did not tremble. Did not show any signs of hesitation. Neither did her feet as she kept walking towards Regina. 

“Sing!” Regina said again. Commanding and egging Emma on. 

There had been a time where that annoyed Emma. Where she found it frustrating to be pushed like that. But now she was only spurred on by it. It only made the urge to sing, stronger. Emma kept sauntering towards with Regina. Pulled by the crooked finger. Pulled by the music floating out of her mouth. When she reached Regina, she stopped right in front of her. But she did not stop singing. Only let her voice climb higher and higher and fill the enormous room. It bounced off the walls, echoed and Emma almost felt intoxicated by it. Her throat was completely open, and she had no trouble with letting her voice climb just a little higher. So high. So loud. So crystal clear. It was almost unreal. As she sang, she turned around, so she was facing the empty velvet chairs. Regina always spun her around to face ‘the audience’. 

But not this time. Regina’s long fingers grabbed her shoulders, yes, but tonight she spun Emma around to face her instead. “Sing for ME,” she murmured and cupped Emma’s cheek for a moment. 

And oh, how Emma sang! She sang with her heart. Sang with her entire soul. Sang to please the woman she was proud to call her teacher and mentor. The woman who had come to mean everything to her. 

“Again!” Regina demanded, fingers slipping from Emma’s cheeks and grabbing her hand instead. “Sing, my Angel!”

She was pushing Emma harder than ever tonight. But Emma did not fear that her voice would break. Not any longer. She knew what she was capable of, and she knew that she could do this. Again, her voice climbed up one more step. Effortlessly. She had never tried sustaining a note for this long, and her head was starting to feel a little floaty. Was this how it felt to be bewitched? If so, Emma did not mind it at all. 

“Sing!” Regina demanded. “Emma, sing!” 

The last, high note came out of Emma’s mouth in one, sweet rush and she squeezed Regina’s hands tighter than ever. She felt so completely connected to Regina as never before. There was an unbreakable strand of music between them, and it would only grow stronger. Regina’s ‘Emma, sing!’ echoed in her mind as she held the note and then finally released it and at last let the music unfurl in the room. Her lungs felt completely empty, but her stomach was full of molten lava again. Threatening to overflow. Regina’s hands slipped from her grasp as Emma sank to her knees whilst trying to catch her breath. The sustaining had as usually come with a price, and Emma closed her eyes for a moment. She could feel hot tears burn behind her eyelids, and she cursed herself. Why did this have to bring tears to her eyes? Why did she have to cry in front of Regina? 

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Gently squeezing. Soothing. Silently comforting her in the sweetest way possible.

Emma opened her eyes and tried to collect herself. Regina had sunk to her knees too and was sitting right in front of her. Emma swallowed thickly when one of Regina’s long fingers hooked under her chin and forced her to look up. She had trouble with meeting Regina’s eyes but was instantly soothed when she saw how soft the look in Regina’s eyes was. 

‘You are Music, beautiful Music,’ Regina sang for her as she rose to her full height again and offered Emma her hands. ‘And you are Light to me!’ 

Emma took the offered hands and shakily came to her full height. 

‘Oh, You are Music, sunbursts of Music, and you are Light to me!’ Regina’s voice was so soft Emma could have cried. But instead she smiled bravely at her teacher. 

“You did very well, my dear,” Regina praised. “I am pleased with you. You truly are... my protégé. Come here.” and with that, she pulled Emma into her arms and kissed her hard on the lips. 

Despite her previous lack of oxygen, Emma put her heart and soul into the kiss. She poured all the affection she could possibly muster into this one kiss. Threw her arms around Regina’s neck and stood on her tippy toes to be tall enough to reach her mentor. Regina was not holding back either. Her arms were no longer around Emma’s waist but that was okay because instead she was cupping Emma’s cheeks very gently as they kissed, and Emma thought to herself that they should go back to her room. Or to Regina’s lair. Far away....

“Oh my god!”

Neither of them were in any position to exclaim like that. Meaning that someone else had to have said that just now. 

Emma reluctantly pulled out of the kiss to look behind them. Her head was so floaty she was only partially aware that there was a third person here. 

But what she saw by the door, immediately made her a hundred percent aware. Aware of how bad this was. 

Aware of how much of a mistake they had made when they chose to come here. 

Aware of how incredibly stupid she had been. 

And naive.

Of course this had all been too easy. 

Emma could almost feel how the blood left her face when she looked at Ruby who was standing by the door. 

Ruby, whose mouth was hanging wide open.

Ruby, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.

Ruby, whose face was as white as a sheet.

As though she had seen a ghost....

To Be Continued........


	47. Hide No Longer Part I

Emma froze. Completely froze. For a moment, her brain refused to accept what was happening. That her secret was no longer a secret. That Ruby was here. That she had seen Regina with her own eyes. 

Then her fight or flight suddenly kicked in, and her first impulse was to yell to Regina that she should run and hide. 

But it was too late. Far, far too late. Ruby had already seen Regina. There was no more denying. No more lying. And no more hiding. 

“Well, well,” Regina said quietly. She did not sound even the littlest bit shocked. 

Emma whirled around on the spot. Stared wildly at Regina. “I didn’t know she was here. I thought she had left with the others. I didn’t see her leave, but I assumed she had, but I should have checked to make sure. I haven’t told her anything, and I didn’t know she would be following me, please believe me!” she rambled, terrified that Regina would think she was the one who had brought Ruby here. She was. But not intentionally! Definitely not intentionally!

But Regina merely chuckled and then patted Emma’s cheek with a warm hand. “Dear Little Swan,” she said softly. “Don’t be so silly. I know perfectly well that you would never betray me.” She moved her hand away from Emma’s cheek and lifted to point at Ruby with a long finger. 

Ruby was still by the door, looking completely shell-shocked with her eyes wide as saucers and her mouth slightly agape. 

“Aren’t you gonna come and say hello?” Regina asked silkily without lowering the pointing finger. “It’s very rude to stare.” 

She sounded vaguely threatening, and Emma couldn’t help but to shiver slightly. 

“Come now,” Regina almost hummed. “Don’t be shy. You’ve gone through all this trouble to find me. Don’t tell me that you’re too scared to come closer.”

Ruby still didn’t move. Just stood there and stared with her wide eyes. Emma wondered if she perhaps had gone into shock or something. 

“Well,” Regina said, sounding mildly unimpressed now. She glanced at Emma. “Is she really your friend, dear? She doesn’t seem too intelligent, that one. I thought you would be having smarter friends.” She laughed, and Emma wasn’t sure whether to feel insulted or not. 

And Ruby was still just standing there. 

Regina sighed and rolled her expressive, dark eyes. “Alright. Either you come closer, or I will. Which one will you prefer?” 

“What does that even mean?” Emma whispered. 

Regina ignored her, and Emma didn’t get the chance to ask again before Ruby at last started moving. She slowly came staggering over to them, and Regina clapped her hands as though imitating an excited child. “Well done,” she praised. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Hurry now. Come say hello.”

The way she spoke made Emma feel all confused, and she couldn’t blame Ruby for looking completely shocked. She could almost have felt sorry for Ruby if it hadn’t been for the fact that she just exposed her and Regina. What did this mean? Was Ruby an enemy now? Would it only be a matter of time before she rushed out of the door and alerted the entire opera house about what she had discovered. 

When Ruby was standing right in front of them, Regina rather suddenly sat down on the edge of the stage with her legs dangling and became a hundred percent non-threatening. “Hello,” she said calmly. 

“I... I...” Ruby croaked but did not manage to string any words together. 

“Miss Lucas, right?” Regina continued, still calmly. “Emma has been telling me about you.”

Emma was almost startled at hearing Regina say her name. Normally, Regina always said ‘Little Swan’ or ‘dear’. It was only in serious situations she used Emma’s given name. 

“You’re... You’re...” now Ruby was capable of saying words, but still not entirely successful with stringing them together. 

“The Phantom of the Opera,” Regina said casually. “Delighted to make your acquaintance.” 

Had the situation been any different, Emma definitely would have been amused by Regina’s tone and words. 

“You’re.... You’re real,” Ruby more gasped out the words rather than saying them. “I didn’t.... I didn’t want to believe it, but...”

Regina scoffed. “Don’t be silly, miss Lucas. Of course you wanted to believe. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come here. And I can assure you, I am quite real. But I am however a person, not a ghost nor a creature. And I don’t appreciate your unabashed staring at me.” 

However impossible it sounded, Ruby actually blushed and looked down. Then she looked up at Emma, and now she could see the betrayal in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Ruby.” Emma whispered. The words sounded hollow and most likely did not mean shit to Ruby right now, but it was the best she could do right now. 

Perhaps the words didn’t even fully register with Ruby. She looked at Regina again. Shocked, but a bit more coherent now. “You exist,” she said quietly. 

“I do,” Regina confirmed. 

“You’re.... You’re a.... A woman.”

“Indeed.” Regina’s voice was dry now. “Did you expect me to be a man, miss Lucas?”

“I.... I don’t-“ Ruby seemed besides herself again. Whirled around and then stared wildly at Emma again. “How did you do that?!”

“Do what?” Emma asked, at once alarmed at Ruby’s suddenly regained voice. 

“Sing.... like THAT,” Ruby croaked. “You don’t even know how to do that! You can’t-“

“Of course she can,” Regina interrupted, nearly snapping at Ruby. “I think you’ll find that she is capable of doing anything.”

Emma blushed at that. Looked down. So Ruby had witnessed her sing as well as witnessing her and Regina kiss one another. For some reason, that made Emma feel just a smidge less worried. 

“How?” Ruby asked, eyes flickering between Regina and Emma. “How did you do it?!”

“Lessons,” Regina said simply. 

Ruby immediately turned her attention back to Emma. “You’ve been taking lessons from...” 

“Yes,” Emma openly admitted. Why should she lie about it? She didn’t want to. She was proud at admitting that she had been given lessons from Regina. The best mentor in the whole wide world. 

“For... For how long?” Ruby wheezed and still looked like she didn’t fully dare believing her eyes and ears.

“Well, how long has it been, my dear?” Regina asked nonchalantly and reached up so she could take Emma’s hand and give it a little squeeze. “Five months? Six months?”

“Six months,” Emma confirmed. 

“My, my. How time flies.”

“Six MONTHS?” Ruby cried. “This has been going on for six MONTHS?! Emma!”

“Yes!” Emma whisper-shouted. “Yes, it has been going on for six months, okay! What do you want me to say, Ruby? Would you ever have understood it if I told you about it?!”

“I still don’t understand it!” Ruby snipped. “You’ve known of this.... Phantom’s existence for six MONTHS, and you haven’t thought of telling anyone?!”

“No,” Emma said simply, legs moving on their own accord as she moved to stand protectively in front of Regina as though trying to shield her from Ruby’s eyes. “I have not. And if you think of telling anyone-”

“Now, now,” Regina lightly interrupted as she stood up and put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “As much as I appreciate your bulldog-tendencies, Little Swan, I don’t think threats are the correct way to go about this. Give miss Lucas a chance to digest things.”

Emma held her tongue and could hear her heart thunder in her chest. Ruby was still looking from her to Regina. Completely bewildered and clearly not knowing what she should do with the current situation. She shifted and stuffed the noses of her shoes on the floor. Looked at her hands. Then looked up. Looked at Regina. Voice full of uncertainty and the slightest amount of fear as she asked: “Wh-who are you?”

“Regina,” Regina said. “My name is Regina.”

“Regina who?” 

“Just Regina. I don’t have a surname.” 

“Everyone’s got a surname,” Ruby said, now sounding a bit more defiant. 

And Emma found herself speculating too. What WAS Regina’s surname? And why had she never asked Regina about it? 

“Perhaps,” Regina coldly agreed. “But mine is not relevant. Next question, Miss Lucas.”

“How long have you been here?” Ruby asked and curled her hands into fists. 

“Ten years. Perhaps a bit longer. Perhaps a bit shorter. It’s hard to say. But rest assure that I have been here for a while.”

“T-ten years?” Ruby stammered. “You’ve been here for t-ten years?!”

“Indeed. Baffles me too sometimes.”

Ruby stared for a moment before composing herself enough to ask another question: “Where do you... live?”

“I think you already know that,” Regina replied and brushed invisible dust off her red velvet coat. “As far as I know, there has been some whispers about it before.”

“Beneath the opera house,” Ruby mumbled. “Christine... said so.” her neck made a slight cricking sound as she looked up at Regina again. “Did you know Christine?” 

“You already know that too, Miss Lucas,” Regina said somewhat tiredly. “Of course I did. I knew her well.” 

Ruby’s eyes widened, her face paled and she opened her mouth to say something more. 

“Tread carefully.” Regina’s voice was still quiet, but her eyes had started to flash slightly. “I know what kind of rumors that were going around the place three years ago. And I know of your opinion of those rumors.”

“She didn’t do it, Ruby!” Emma said urgently. “I know you think so, but she didn’t! She has not harmed Christine. Regina has never done anything wrong!”

“Not entirely true, Little Swan,” Regina interjected. “Actually, I’ve done plenty wrong. But not that. Never that.” 

Ruby’s mouth became a thin line. “Then who did? Do you mean to tell me that there’s someone else in the opera who...” her nostrils flared, and she glared at both Emma and Regina. “WHO killed Christine if the answer isn’t the most obvious one?!”

“Joseph Bouquet did,” Regina answered. 

Ruby’s eyes widened again, and she took several steps backwards. “J-Joseph Bouquet is dead.” 

“Yes. He is.” Regina said shortly. “You’re quite right.” 

Ruby’s breathing sped up. “No,” she whispered. “This is insane! You’re lying! About everything!” she looked at Emma. “And you’re a part of it! God, I can’t believe it! We’ve been friends for so long, and all the time you’ve been sneaking around with a... a murderer!”

“Ruby-“

“You knew she was here, and you didn’t tell anyone!” Ruby bellowed. “You knew what she did to my best friend and instead of telling anyone, you....” she took a breath. “You’ve been playing the same game as Christine did! The same game that had her killed! But guess what? That game ends! Right now!”

“Ruby, please-“

“Spare me your ‘pleases’!” Ruby sneered. “If you think I’m gonna turn the blind eye, you’ve got another thing coming! You don’t even know what you’re doing! You’re seventeen, Emma, and you’re sneaking around with a.... No. I’m not even gonna say it. And I’m definitely not just gonna let this slide! Maybe you’ve betrayed me and the entire opera house, but that doesn’t mean that I am going to let you get yourself killed like Christine. I’m going to tell someone about this!” and with that, she spun around and ran out of the auditorium as fast as her legs could carry her. 

“Ruby, wait!” Emma cried. 

“Catch her,” Regina said simply, hopping off the stage. Her voice was crisp but her hands gentle as she helped Emma down. “Go after her. Tell her things. Tell her everything if you must. Make her understand. Bring her to the lair for another talk. I don’t care what you do, as long as you manage to stall her. I would do it myself, but I doubt she would be willing to stop if she saw me chase after her. You’re her friend. She’ll listen to you.” 

“She hates me,” Emma whispered. 

“She does not. She’s lashing out because she has seen and heard things her mind refuses to accept. She thinks she has just discovered who murdered Christine Daaé and now she cannot accept that it isn’t true.”

“But it isn’t!” Emma said quickly. “I know that!”

“Yes, you do,” Regina agreed softly. “And now you must convince her. Run. Hurry. Before she gets the chance to tell anyone!”

Emma stumbled towards the door. “And what you gonna do?” 

“Prepare for one scenario or the other. Go. Now!”

Emma ran. Faster than ever before. She ran down the hallway. It didn’t take long before her lungs started burning and heart felt like it was going to pop out of her chest. But she couldn’t stop. She had to catch up with Ruby. It was essential that she did. 

Ruby had not made it far. When Emma rounded a corner, she spotted the older girl half stumbling down the hallway. Emma didn’t call out to her. She was afraid that it would only prompt Ruby to speed up, and Emma did not have much oxygen left because of the way she had been singing only moments before all of this. 

When she caught up with Ruby, she reached out and put a trembling hand on her shoulder. 

Ruby immediately whirled around and smacked Emma’s hand away. “Leave me alone, Emma! I don’t want to talk to you!”

“But I want to talk to you!” Emma wheezed. 

“Yeah, well, that’s just too bad. You could have talked to me months ago, but you didn’t! Instead you chose to sneak around with... Whatever. Just leave me the hell alone!”

“I can’t! You don’t know the whole story!”

“I know enough!” Ruby sneered as she started to jog once more. “I know what she did to Christine! What you’re helping her cover up!”

“No, that isn’t true!” Emma said. “That isn’t at all what’s going on, Ruby please! You gotta listen to me! You have to believe me!”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?!” Ruby bellowed. “You’ve been lying to me, Emma! For months and months!”

“What was I supposed to say?!” Emma asked desperately. “You wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You’re damn right, I wouldn’t!” Ruby half-yelled. “And I don’t believe you now either! She’s a killer!”

“She is not, she’s-“

“Shut up, Emma! God, has she fucking brainwashed you or something?! Just look at yourself! You’ve been sneaking around and lying and hiding her for months! Someone the entire opera house were looking for three years ago! She’s been scaring everybody, and all this time you’ve just been pretending to know shit about it!”

“Ruby,” Emma tried, but Ruby just kept going:

“I’m never gonna trust anything you say ever again!” she shouted, anger staining her cheeks red. “I’m going to fucking do what you’ve been too much of an idiot to do! I’m telling Mr. Gold about her!”

Fear swept over Emma like a wildfire, and she could feel how she was slowly running out of steam. Hot tears pooled in her eyes. “Ruby, please! I beg you! Don’t tell Mr. Gold about her! Please don’t take her from me! I love her!” It felt like an enormous cotton ball was stuck in her throat, and she could not say anything else. Only make some weak, croaky sounds. 

Ruby abruptly stopped jogging, and Emma who had been stumbling after her nearly crashed into her. She regained balance and at the last minute managed to prevent herself from stumbling into Ruby. She ended up backing up against the wall instead.

Ruby slowly turned around and looked at Emma. “Are you insane?” she asked quietly. “Like, actually insane?” 

“No,” Emma said meekly. “I am not. I promise, I’m not. If you would just give me a moment to explain-“

“Oh, so NOW you want to explain,” Ruby said bitterly. “You could have done so months ago. Be real, Emma. The only reason why you want to explain is because I caught you!”

“You’re right,” Emma said softly, slowly moving away from the wall and closer to Ruby. “You’re right, I was keeping it a secret. And I wasn’t planning on telling anyone. I was afraid. I knew how you or everyone else would react. You’d jump the conclusion and be more focused on capturing her rather than hearing the truth.”

Ruby said nothing. She wasn’t running, but she didn’t exactly look accommodating either. Her mouth was drawn into a scowl and her eyes were squinting as she looked at Emma.

“Regina did not kill Christine,” Emma said softly. “She didn’t, Ruby. You’ve gotten it all wrong.”

“She told you that?” Ruby scoffed. “And why should I believe anything she says? Why should you? You can’t be this naïve, Emma. Can’t you see that this woman is tricking you? She’s lying to you!”

“She’s not the one who told me,” Emma said quickly. “Christine is.”

“Christine? Are you fucking kidding me?! You think that’ll make me believe that you’re not ins-“

“No! I mean her diary!” Emma talked over Ruby. “She kept a diary and I’ve read it. All of it. It’s all there. How she met Regina. How she started tutoring her. How they-“ she did not finish the sentence. This part was not for her to tell. 

“I know that Christine kept a diary,” Ruby said, and her voice finally sounded a bit more normal and less angry. “I saw her with it several times. I even looked for it after she died. But I never found it.”

“I have it,” Emma said. She was grasping onto the sliver of hope with both hands. “It’s in my room. If you only come with me, I can tell you everything. I won’t lie to you again. I promise.”

“This is insane,” Ruby said and folded her arms across her chest. “I shouldn’t even be considering to listen to you!”

“Please,” Emma said again, now openly begging once more. She had to keep trying. Had to keep pleading. If there was just the tiniest possibility of convincing Ruby not to tell, she had to keep fighting. Keep begging and pleading with her. 

“Two minutes,” Ruby said tightly and with eyes that were still flashing. “I’ll give you two minutes to ‘explain everything’ to me. That’s it. I can’t promise that I won’t be telling Mr. Gold afterwards.”

They were by no means ‘safe’, but this was the chance Emma had been hoping for. She nodded. “I understand. Would you like to come into my room? It’s a bit of a long story, and it’s awkward to stand in the hallway.”

“I dunno about that,” Ruby scoffed. “Is it a setup? Is ‘she’ waiting for us in your room? Waiting for you to lure me in there so she can-“

“No!” Emma interrupted and reminded herself not to sound too angry. “Of course not. She would never do that!”

“Right. Whatever. Fine. Let’s go back to your room so you can ‘explain’. Lead the way.” sarcasm was dripping from Ruby’s voice, but Emma did not comment on it. Instead she turned around and started to walk back down the hallway towards her room. She could hear Ruby following closely behind her, and Emma begged the higher powers that Ruby would believe the impossible truth when she heard it. And that she would not tell anyone about Regina’s existence. 

None of them spoke as they walked down the hallway towards Emma’s room. Even Ruby’s footsteps sounded angry, Emma thought to herself. She was relieved that Ruby had given her the chance to tell her what really happened. But she was also terrified that Ruby still chose to tell the teachers. If she did so, it would mean that Regina would have to disappear. And perhaps Emma would have no choice but to do the same. She did not want to be questioned about Regina’s whereabouts, and she couldn’t imagine herself staying in the opera if Regina was not here. 

If Regina disappeared... Emma would have to go with her. 

The realization came to her as she walked down the hallway with the silent Ruby next to her. She was too closely connected to Regina to be able to get by without her. Too much in love. She and Regina were supposed to be together. It could not be any different. Regina had changed her life in ways Emma couldn’t even begin to explain, and she couldn’t just stand by and watch while Regina left the opera house for good. The thought alone made her feel queasy. 

They made it inside Emma’s room. Emma quietly closed the door behind her and encouraged Ruby to sit down. 

Ruby still looked utterly skeptical as she sat down on the edge of Emma’s bed. Her arms remained folded across her chest. Her mouth was drawn into a scowl. There was a wrinkle between her eyebrows.   
“So,” she snapped impatiently. “Start talking.” 

“What do you want to know?” Emma asked. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but she had to make sure she was telling the parts Ruby were interested in. 

“Fucking everything!” Ruby sneered. “But I suggest you start with the beginning! How did this insane shit even start?!”

Emma sat down next to her. And then she began talking. Started with the beginning like Ruby had told her to. How she had been rehearsing in her room when she heard a voice saying ‘brava, brava, bravissima’. 

Ruby raised an eyebrow, but the only word coming out of her mouth was: “continue.”

Emma did. “The next time I realized that not everything was as it seemed was a week after I had come here. I ended up at the auditorium by mistake and was walking around and being a bit silly when I heard something in there. Footsteps. And some kind of rustling. It came from Box Five. I assumed that it was just Maurice because he popped up right after I had asked if someone was there, but there was always a part of me that didn’t actually believe it. At the time, I was scared of it, though.” There was no reason to leave that part out. Emma had promised to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. 

“And then what?” Ruby asked. Her arms were still folded across her chest. 

“That next Monday, Malena showed all of us the auditorium. You were there too. Do you remember?” 

“Yes. Keep talking.” 

“Killian was saying things about Box Five, and Malena had to tell us about it,” Emma continued. 

“She was implying that Christine was crazy,” Ruby sneered. 

“Yeah. She did. And she told about the rumor and everything. Anyway, after the lesson, I made up an excuse to stay behind and went up to Box Five because I was curious. With the rumor and the things I had heard and everything, I just had to go up there and see that there wasn’t anything. I suppose I was trying to convince myself.”

“And then what?”

“I found two black feathers,” Emma told the older girl. “One right by the stairs leading up to the box, and one behind the seat as though someone had ducked down to hide. That’s when I started to really wonder what was going on.”

“I bet you did,” Ruby said dryly. “Continue.”

“I kept the feathers. I hid them in my drawer. And later I heard Regina in my room. At night. She was singing for me. At the time, I got scared and ran out of the room. I knocked on Lily’s door and asked if I could sleep in there-“

“Lily whom you didn’t tell about it either,” Ruby bitterly interrupted and glared at Emma. “So far it just sounds like a horror story, Emma! I hope you’re aware of that! I’m telling you, she has brainwashed you or somet-“

“The next encounter was in my room,” Emma hastily continued. She knew how this sounded, but she wanted Ruby to know the entire story. “At night. She took something from one of the drawers. The two feathers I found. And something else too.”

“And what was that then?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. 

“I... I don’t know, actually,” Emma admitted. “But I assume it was the diary. Or maybe some other token of Christine’s.” 

“Why would she take something of Christine’s?!” Ruby growled. 

“I’m getting to it,” Emma promised. “Just... listen. Please?” 

“I’m listening,” Ruby said reluctantly. 

“A few weeks later, I talked to her for the first time,” Emma kept going. “In the crypt. When I was there to light a candle for my grandmother. I saw Christine’s memory planchet, and I think I said something, I can’t really remember what it was, but Regina answered me. And I asked her who she was. She told me that she was The Phantom of the Opera, and that was when I really stopped doubting that I was imagining things. I knew that she existed, and I wanted to know more.” she took a quick breath and braced herself for the next interruption and more crass accusations from Ruby, but they never came. Ruby was sitting quietly and waiting for Emma to continue, so Emma did not waste the opportunity: “she showed up in my room again. At night. At first I was afraid. I thought she was going to hurt me. But she wasn’t. We started talking. She was looking for something. She wouldn’t tell me what it was. She wouldn’t let me help either. She asked if I was still afraid, and I said yes because I was. She sat down on the edge of my bed and held my hand. Sang for me. It was... It was so beautiful. And so sad. I asked her why she was sad, but she was gone.”

“Just like that?” Ruby asked skeptically. 

“Just like that,” Emma confirmed. “I waited for her to show up again the next night, but she never came. She didn’t the next night or the next. I waited for eight days, but nothing happened. I didn’t understand why she didn’t come back, I suppose a part of me already missed her back then. So I decided to start my own investigation. I searched in Box Five, but came up with nothing.”

“Why was it so damn important to you to find her?” Ruby asked. She didn’t sound all that angry now. Just puzzled. 

“I felt connected to her,” Emma said truthfully. “Already then. I couldn’t help it. I just had to know more. And I did find out more. That night. I found out how she had gotten into my room.” 

“And how did she do it then?” still not much anger. But curiosity. 

Emma glanced towards the mirror. 

Ruby quickly looked in the same direction. “You’re shitting me.” 

“No. There’s a passage behind the mirror,” Emma told her. 

“Christine talked about a passage,” Ruby murmured. “It.. It exists?”

“It does,” Emma confirmed.

“And where does it go?” 

“Underground. To a lair under the opera house.”

Ruby’s jaw dropped. “You went through it? Just like that? Without thinking?”

“Yeah,” Emma said and irrelevantly felt a bit proud at her past boldness. “And then I met Regina.”

Ruby listened, and Emma told her about the lair. She easily skated over how she had fainted the first time she met Regina. She did not want Ruby to think that Regina was scary. Instead she made a point of describing how beautiful the lair was with all the candles. How Regina had carried her all the way back to her room. How she had not been able to get back to the lair the next day because the passage behind the mirror had been blocked. How she had figured out that there was another way behind the mirror in the crypt. She told Ruby about how she had been unable to stay away. She told about how Regina had stayed behind the curtain in the little room to avoid spooking Emma. The chocolate bar Emma had brought Regina. How that chocolate bar had started something. Their food-arrangement. 

“So YOU’RE the one who’s been taking food in the canteen!” Ruby exclaimed. 

“Yes,” Emma admitted. “I have been stealing food. That is true.”

Ruby had nothing further to say about the subject. She just folded her arms across her chest again. Silently encouraging Emma to keep going. 

Emma continued the story. Told about how a tentative friendship had built between her and Regina. How Regina had started to give her singing lessons in exchange for food. She told about the diary. 

How she had found it in the lair and had snooped through it. How she had gotten a glimpse of how Christine had found out about Regina just like Emma had. How Regina had gotten angry and kicked her out of the lair but then forgiven her. How Regina slowly had started to gradually let her in and had told Emma her name. How she had consoled Emma one night during a thunderstorm. She told Ruby about the little glimpses she had gotten of the ‘real’ Regina. She lightly glided over the things Regina had told her about her past. That was not her story to tell. She blushed when she told Ruby about how her feelings for Regina had gradually changed as the singing lessons progressed. She did not give out too many details. Did not tell Ruby about the whole hypnotizing thing. That was Emma’s memory to keep. Hers alone. But she did tell Ruby about some of the sweeter moments between her and Regina. Anything to convince Ruby that Regina was not the scary killer Ruby thought she was. 

Ruby’s mouth twisted a little. “You still sound like she has you completely brainwashed, Emma.” 

“I am not brainwashed,” Emma said and tried not to get annoyed. She was not in any position to get annoyed. 

“You wouldn’t know if you were,” Ruby half-snipped. 

“Ruby, I am NOT brainwashed,” Emma said urgently. “Really, I am not! I know you don’t believe me and nothing I say can convince you, but she has not brainwashed me. I’m just... so in love with her.”

Ruby scoffed but then swiftly changed the subject. “And exactly where does Christine fit into this story? So far you’ve tried to paint some kind of pretty picture of your relationship with some woman who lives in a lair, but you still haven’t said anything about Christine and what happened to her. You’ve done nothing to convince me that your Phantom of the Opera had nothing to do with it!”

“I am not the best person to tell you about that,” Emma said and reached under her pillow. She found the little flower patterned diary and weighted it in her hand. It was like she could feel how heavy Christine’s words were. How heavy her story was. She would not be betraying Regina by letting Ruby read the diary, would she? She didn’t have any other choice. Nothing she said or did could convince Ruby that Regina had not harmed Christine. There was only one person who could convince her. 

Christine Daaé. 

“I think it would be better if Christine is the one to tell you her story,” Emma murmured as she gave the diary to Ruby. “Here. This is the truth. What Christine knew of it, anyway. Once you’ve read the diary, I can fill in some of the blanks for you.”

“You actually do have it,” Ruby whispered as she gently cradled the diary. “I thought you were just bluffing.”

“No,” Emma said quickly. “I know that I’ve been lying so much, but I could not lie about this.” 

“Couldn’t you?” 

Emma recoiled but didn’t protest. She fully deserved that jab. She bowed her head and looked at her hands as Ruby opened the diary and frowned slightly as she began reading. Emma was well aware that Ruby was about to experience a second betrayal. Christine’s betrayal. She too had lied to Ruby in order to make sure her secret stayed a secret. Emma cringed. It would hurt Ruby. A lot. She felt so guilty. 

She had been a terrible friend to Ruby. All of it had seemed so justifiable before, but now when she was confronted with the hurt on Ruby’s face, she fully understood just how awful her behavior had been. 

She said nothing as Ruby turned page after page in the diary and read and read. But she did keep a close eye on her. The further Ruby got into the diary, the more her deep frowned. Now and then she mumbled something to herself. Something that probably had not made sense three years ago but suddenly did now. Sometimes she let out a gasp. Uttered a quiet: “Oh, Christine.” Turned another page in the diary. 

Emma’s stomach tied in knots. Perhaps this would convince Ruby that Regina did not harm Christine, but was it enough? Ruby’s anger would not go away that easily. And perhaps she was angry enough about Emma’s lies to tell Mr. Gold about Regina’s existence. Ruby had every right to be angry. Had every right to tell Mr. Gold or one of the teachers about what she had discovered today. 

Emma constantly had to bite her tongue not to say something that wouldn’t influence Ruby’s decision. She didn’t want to keep pleading. She had already done that so many times. She could not force Ruby to keep quiet about this if she didn’t want to. 

What was she supposed to say to Regina if Ruby decided to tell the teachers? Regina had begged her to catch up with Ruby. She had given Emma permission to tell Ruby everything. What should become of Regina if she had to leave the opera house? Where would she go? 

They, Emma reminded herself. Where should THEY go. She was not gonna let Regina leave on her own. She couldn’t.

“I didn’t know that the bullying was so bad,” Ruby said quietly. “Christine never told me that it was this bad. She never said that Raoul De Chagney was giving her such a hard time.”

“I don’t think anyone knew of it,” Emma replied. “Except for Regina.”

“Christine clearly told her everything,” Ruby mumbled and turned her attention back to the diary. She read quickly, and Emma was able to spot a date when Ruby flicked forward in the diary once more. January 25th. Emma remembered that. That was the date where Regina had told Christine about Erik.

February 2nd. The day where Christine discovered that she had feelings for Regina. 

Emma went back to looking at her hands and was startled when Ruby exclaimed “Oh my god!”. 

It did not take Emma long to figure out why. The date in Christine’s diary read February 14th. The date of Christine and Regina’s first kiss. 

Emma settled for nodding slightly, and Ruby went back to reading. Quietly. But her facial expressions as she read said more than a thousand words. One moment she was smiling a little because of something funny Christine had written in the diary, and the next, her face contorted, and her chin quivered. “I never realized how lonely she was,” she said and bit her lip, clearly urging herself not to cry.   
“She never told me so either. How could I not have seen? She was right there, and I was supposed to be her best friend. But all I saw was her success. How good she became at singing. I thought that automatically meant that she was doing better. God, I was so stupid! I was so busy praising her, I never actually asked her how she felt!” she flicked another few pages forward. “But Regina did. She clearly understood all about her!”

Emma couldn’t think of anything to say about that. Because it was true. Regina had understood Christine completely. Like she understood Emma. 

What was Regina doing right now? She had said something about preparing for every possibly scenario. Did that mean that she once again had packed up the lair? Was she getting ready to leave? 

Disappear out onto the Parisian streets... 

Emma suddenly had to fight the urge to burst through the mirror and run down to the lair.

“So that is what the mask is about,” Ruby said after a while and briefly looked up from the diary. “She’s disfigured, isn’t she?” 

“Yes,” Emma said quietly. Wasn’t exactly sure she liked the term ‘disfigured’, but felt like she wasn’t in any position to correct Ruby’s choice of word. She knew exactly which part of the diary Ruby was reading, and she hoped that she would go lightly over that paragraph. It was such a private moment between Regina and Christine, and Emma did not want anyone to violate it.

“Have you seen-“

“No. I haven’t. And I haven’t asked to be shown either. It’s up to her to decide if and when...” She did not finish the sentence. It truly was up to Regina to decide if and when. If ever. Would she one day trust Emma enough to take off her mask? 

Emma hoped so. Really hoped so. But she had vowed to herself never to ask. 

But no matter what, she would find Regina beautiful. It did not matter how her face looked. It would not change how Emma saw her. As the most beautiful woman in the world. 

There was that urge to run down the secret passageway. That desperate urge to see Regina and make sure that she was okay. Ruby’s sudden appearance had changed anything, and although Emma knew that telling Ruby the truth and showing her diary was the right thing to do, she still feared that it would jeopardize her budding relationship with Regina. Complicate things. Make what had seemed so possible, impossible.

But Ruby deserved the truth. She really did. Christine had been her friend. And Emma had neglected to tell her that she knew the truth about what had happened to her. She had treated Ruby horribly. 

Everything had gone out the window in favor of lying, lying, lying and more lying.

A lump was forming in Emma’s throat.

Ruby had gone back to reading. And she did indeed flick quickly through the diary. She was skipping over the part where Christine revealed her most intimate moments with Regina. “She went with her to the masquerade!” she exclaimed. “How did I not see them together?” 

“Regina is..... very good at hiding.” Emma didn’t say anything else. The masquerade ball meant the end of Christine’s diary. And the end of her life. It almost hurt Emma physically, seeing Ruby turn the page in the diary and then discover that the rest of the pages were blank. 

“Why isn’t there written anymore?!” she hissed. “Where’s the rest of it?!”

Emma swallowed thickly. “L-look at the date, Ruby,” she quietly croaked and tried to compose herself. Ruby was the one who had the right to be upset. Not Emma. 

“July 16th,” Ruby read aloud. And then as it dawned upon her: “no! Oh god, no!”

The truth hurt. Terribly so. Christine’s fate hurt. Emma had seen the hurt in Regina’s eyes. And now she was seeing it in Ruby’s too. 

For a moment, there was completely silent in the little room. And then Ruby started crying. Quietly, as she held the diary close. 

Emma hesitantly inched closer and put her hand over Ruby’s. “I’m sorry, Ruby,” she said wetly as tears started to pool in her eyes too. “I really am so, so sorry! About everything. About what happened to your friend. For knowing the truth and not telling you. For not telling you about Regina. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but-“

“She was so happy,” Ruby interrupted and sobbed as she unexpectedly squeezed Emma’s hand. “I’m n-not pretending that I understand her choices, but I can see how happy she was about her decision. And that was all I really wanted for her. To be happy. It didn’t matter how! She was my friend, and I would have supported her no matter what she chose! Why couldn’t she just have told me what was going on?! I could have helped her! I could have s-saved her!”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ruby,” Emma said, repeating what she had already said to Regina once. “Christine chose to keep it hidden.”

Ruby sniffled and let go of the diary to wipe the tears away. ”Who killed her, Emma? Who murdered Christine?” 

“Joseph Bouquet did,” Emma replied. That she could say aloud. Joseph Bouquet may be dead, but he deserved to be blamed for this over and over again! 

“Joseph Bouquet,” Ruby repeated quietly and glanced at the mirror. “And was his death an accident?” 

Emma took a deep breath. One last truth. Possibly the one that could make everything tip over, but she had promised to tell Ruby everything. 

“No,” she said and looked towards the mirror too. Imagined that Regina was sitting right behind it and listening to everything she had said to Ruby. “It was not an accident.”

This was it. The truth out in the open. Now she could only wait for the explosion. For Ruby to jump up and rushing out of the room to find a teacher. Someone she could tell about Joseph Bouquet’s fate. 

But the explosion never came. Ruby did not jump up. She remained sitting. Remained quiet. Stared blankly into space. Eyes wide. Chin still quivering slightly.

Emma started to grow worried. Had Ruby gone into shock again? This time there was no Regina to make her snap out of it, so what was Emma supposed to do? 

“I have questions,” Ruby croaked. “For... her.” she nodded vaguely at the mirror. Clearly couldn’t even say the name.

For a moment that did not make sense in Emma’s mind, but then she pieced things together. “You want to talk to Regina?” 

“Yes,” Ruby said plainly and looked like she too tried to compose herself. “Very much so. I assume you know the way.” 

Indeed Emma did. And now it would seem that she was about to take Ruby down to the lair with her. For the very first time. Never in a million years would she have expected that. But of course she was going to do as Ruby requested. And hope that Regina was willing to talk and answer the questions Ruby might have for her. 

“Okay,” she said as she stood from the bed and walked over to the mirror. “Come on then. Let’s go see Regina...”

To Be Continued.........


	48. Hide No Longer Part II

Emma grunted slightly as she used her shoulder to push against the mirror. She was well-skilled at this, but the bruise on her shoulder remained ever permanent. 

“Do you need a hand with that?” Ruby asked doubtfully. 

“No, I’m good,” Emma groaned. “I’ve done this before.”

“Right,” Ruby said flatly. “Of course you have.” 

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly and a bit strained. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve already said that,” Ruby brushed her off. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

The mirror chose exactly this moment to creakingly slide to the side and reveal the secret hole behind it. 

“Holy shit,” Ruby said plainly as she stared into the pitch black hole. “You seriously go this way every night?”

“Yeah,” Emma confirmed. “I do. Usually, Regina lends me a torch, but I don’t have one tonight. You don’t mind the darkness, do you?”

“No,” Ruby replied and chuckled unexpectedly. “God, you’ve changed so much since you first arrived here, do you know that? When you first came here, you barely dared speaking your mind, and now you’re sneaking through dark passages in the middle of the fucking night!”

Emma didn’t know how to respond. Didn’t know whether it was meant as praising or scolding. So she didn’t say anything at all and settled for concentrating on pushing the mirror all the way back. She was aware that Ruby briefly disappeared behind her, but it didn’t take long before she was standing behind her again. Emma glanced back at the older girl and gave another little sheepish smile and a:   
“well... shall we?”

“I guess so,” Ruby said a bit tightly. “Lead the way, Emma. You’re the one who’s been there before.” 

Emma willingly walked through the mirror, and despite the strange situation, she felt the familiar pull of excitement at the prospect of seeing Regina again. That would always be nice no matter what. Once she had walked through the mirror, she stopped and waited for Ruby who followed suit a few seconds later. She looked a bit more hesitant, but she nevertheless ducked inside the passage. 

Emma carefully closed the mirror behind them and glanced at Ruby again. She noticed that Ruby was holding the diary once more, and she guessed that there probably was a few things in it Ruby wanted to ask Regina. She felt a flicker of anxiety. Hoped that Regina would take the questions well. 

“Lead the way,” Ruby repeated. 

And so Emma did. “Watch your step,” she said over her shoulder. “Sometimes it gets a bit wet down here. And there might be a few rats too.”

“Rats?” Ruby scoffed. “Great place to live.”

Emma felt a flicker of annoyance at that. “She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, Ruby.” 

“Don’t you think she could if she wanted to?” Ruby asked. “Honestly, Emma, what drew her to this place in the beginning?”

“Music,” Emma said immediately. But the answer sounded a bit hollow, even to her. Despite it being the answer Regina had given her, Emma sometimes felt like there was more reason behind Regina’s choice to come here. It was one of the things Emma still didn’t know about Regina. One of the mysteries. 

They continued further into the passage. Emma first, Ruby behind her. Ruby often stopped and listened. Or looked around, and even in the faint light, Emma could see how the older girl looked completely dumbstruck. “Are you telling me that none of the teachers know about this?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her voice. 

“Yes,” Emma said. “They don’t. How could they? I mean, why would anyone think of checking behind an old mirror?” 

“Yes, why indeed,” Ruby muttered and glanced at Emma. “But YOU figured it out.” 

“Only because the mirror was standing open,” Emma reminded her. 

“Right. And instead of telling anyone about it, you went through it without caring whether it could be dangerous or not.”

Emma cringed. “Ruby...”

Ruby came up beside her. “Sorry if I’m sounding harsh here, Emma, but there’s just... a lot to unpack here. One moment you’re my shy, introverted friend in the backrow, and the next I find out that you’ve been canoodling with the Phantom of the Opera for months!”

“I have not been CANOODLING,” Emma mumbled and blushed furiously at the accusation. She did not like the word ‘canoodling’. It sounded so negative.

“Well, what the hell do you call that kiss I saw?” 

“I love her,” Emma said simply. 

“Yeah, so you keep saying. Does she love you too?” 

“I don’t know.” Emma drew a lock of hair behind her ear. “We haven’t exactly... talked about it.” 

“What DO you talk about when you’re not... kissing. Or... singing.” Ruby looked as though she found it difficult to say either word. 

“Everything,” Emma replied. “I’ve told her about Storybrook and my parents, and in return she has told me about the places she has been to.”

“And her parents?” Ruby asked, shivering slightly in the cold air. “Has she told you about them? Christine didn’t really mention them in the diary. At least not in great detail.”

“I don’t know that much about them either,” Emma admitted. “Only that her mother was a very cruel, cold woman who treated her horribly.”

“And her father?” 

“Left when Regina was born.” Emma didn’t tell Ruby why. 

“So you don’t know their names or anything?”

“No, I don’t.” 

Ruby’s mouth twisted. “Wouldn’t that be nice, though? Knowing more about where she comes from?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk about it, Ruby. And it doesn’t matter where she comes from.”

“Then wouldn’t it be nice to know who she really is?” Ruby pressed.

“I already know who she is,” Emma said calmly. “She’s Regina. I don’t need to know her parents in order to be sure of that.”

“Jesus Christ, Emma. You’re completely besotted with this woman.”

“Yes,” Emma said simply. She willingly and happily admitted to that. She was PROUD of admitting that.

Ruby scoffed slightly. “To be honest, I’m still waiting for someone to shake me awake and assure me that this is all a dream.” 

“Would that be better?” Emma asked quietly. 

“It would definitely be easier.” 

“Yeah. I understand that.” Emma ducked her head. She felt terrible about having lied so much to her friend. And she also felt terrible about the looming threat. That Ruby would tell someone about Regina. 

For a while, they walked in silence. The only sound was of their footsteps against the raw stone. Ruby still glanced around. Emma wasn’t completely sure what she was looking for. Was she afraid that Regina would be hiding somewhere down here and attack her? Or was she perhaps looking for a giant alligator hiding in the sewer? 

If that was the case, Emma was more than prepared to calm her mind. There were no alligators down here. Emma would have found out if there was. And Regina certainly would NEVER attack Ruby! If that really was what Ruby was thinking, Emma would feel slightly insulted on Regina’s behalf. She did not attack innocent people. 

When the passage split into two separate ways, Emma stopped and held her hand out to prevent Ruby from continuing.

“What’s up?” Ruby asked and raised an eyebrow. “Why are we stopping?”

“Because if we keep walking straight ahead, we’ll end up in the wrong place,” Emma explained and pointed to the left. “We’re going this way. Come on.” she began walking once more, and Ruby followed suit, cursing slightly as the passage started tilting downwards. “Where does the other way lead to?” she asked slightly breathlessly.

“To the underground lake,” Emma said quietly. 

Ruby said nothing. She didn’t have to. They were both thinking the same thing. 

Downwards they continued, and Emma’s excitement only heightened. She was on her way to see Regina. That was always something to look forward to. No matter what. “How far are we going?” Ruby asked behind her. 

“Not that far,” Emma assured. “We’re almost there.”

“Is that true, or are you just leading me into a dark tunnel in the middle of the night?” 

Emma stopped abruptly and turned around to face Ruby. “I would never do that,” she said seriously. “Never. I’d never do anything that could harm you!”

“I know that,” Ruby said quickly. “I was just kidding. Sorry. I’m still shocked. I tend to get sarcastic when I’m shocked.”

Emma nodded. She understood that. “But really, we’re almost there,” she said. “Do you want to continue? Or would you rather go back? I completely understand if you’d rather-“

“No,” Ruby softly interrupted. “We made it this far already. And I want to see this LAIR you’ve been talking so much about.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, so you keep saying.”

Emma turned around and continued walking. She knew that Ruby would feel the same when she saw the lair with all the candles. It was a place of beauty. No one in their right mind would find it anything but beautiful.

The passageway narrowed now, and Emma knew what that meant. They were getting closer to their destination. Despite the very strange situation, Emma couldn’t help but smile. Regina was still pulling at her regardless of whether Ruby was here or not. She was still calling out to Emma like a siren. Urging her closer no matter what. 

“Wait up!” Ruby protested when Emma unknowingly sped up. 

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly and slowed her pace a tad. 

Ruby huffed. “Do you normally run the entire way or what?” 

“Sometimes,” Emma admitted. “Depends on how long the day has been.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ruby muttered and shook her head. “You say you love her, but to me this borders on obsession, Emma.”

“Maybe,” Emma said with a slight shrug. She was completely fine with being obsessed with Regina. In fact she was hoping to be obsessed with Regina for the rest of her life. It would not bother her at all. 

Ruby mumbled something, but Emma chose to ignore it. She was far more focused on getting to the lair and Regina as fast as possible.

She had absolutely no intention to slow down, but soon she was forced to do more than that. She was forced to stop entirely. Because Ruby had stopped entirely. But it didn’t take long to figure out why Ruby had stopped. Emma could hear gentle piano music float from the lair, and she imagined how Regina was sitting and playing with her eyes closed. She often did that. Didn’t need to look at the keys. 

Ruby looked like she was about to say something, but her mouth merely remained hanging open and her eyes widened. 

Emma knew the reason for that too. Regina was not only playing the piano now. She was singing too, and her velvet-soft smoky voice had goosebumps appearing on Emma’s skin. 

‘Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor... Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day... Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light.... And listen to the music of the night....’

“I...” Ruby whispered croakily. 

‘Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dream! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before! Close your eyes.... let your spirit start.... to.... soar......’

The softness of her voice, and the way Regina had completely control over her vibrato had Emma’s hands curling into fists and the breath hitching in her throat. It was like she was soaring herself. Her head threatened to loll back, and it took everything in Emma to stay grounded. 

‘And you’ll live... As you’ve never lived before....Softly, deftly, music shall surround you, hear it, feel it, closing in around you, open up your mind! Let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight... the darkness of the music of the... night! Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world! Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before! Let your soul take you where you long to.... be!’

And just like that, Regina’s voice was once again strong and powerful, booming through the quiet passage, and vibrato creeping under Emma’s skin and making her feel things she really shouldn’t be feeling right now. 

Regina abruptly stopped singing and playing the piano. She chuckled smokily to herself. Clearly satisfied with her own performance. And she certainly had no reason not to be. 

Emma pulled herself together and remembered what they were supposed to do. Which was not simply standing here. “Come on,” she said lightly over her shoulder and began walking once more. 

But it didn’t take long for her to realize that there were no footsteps behind her. Ruby was not following her, and Emma didn’t understand why. At least she didn’t until she turned around. That’s when she saw it. 

Ruby was standing stock still in the passage. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly agape and her arms hanging limply on either side of her.

“Ruby?” Emma asked. 

Ruby didn’t react to that in anyway.

Emma turned around and walked over to her. “Ruby?” 

Still no reaction. 

“Ruby?” Emma put a hand on her arm now. “Ruby? Ruby!” she shook her slightly. 

That made Ruby jerk backwards as though she had been asleep. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at Emma in bewilderment. “Woah!” she cried. “What the hell was that?!”

“That was Regina singing,” Emma said a bit dumbly. 

Ruby huffed. “Yeah, I HEARD that! But that wasn’t exactly what I meant, Emma!”

“Uhmm.. Regina’s voice is.... very special,” Emma said halfheartedly.

Ruby scoffed again. “Yeah, so’s mine I’ve been told, but I don’t have the ability to make someone fall into a goddamn trance!”

“She didn’t mean to,” Emma quickly defended. “She doesn’t even know that we’re here.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “So that WAS what she was doing?! How the hell is that even possible?!” 

“I’m not completely sure,” Emma admitted, realizing how many things she didn’t know about Regina. “I think she learned it when she was a child, and then developed the skill over the years.”

“Right. Of course she did,” Ruby said and then mumbled something that sounded like ‘completely insane’.

Emma chose to ignore that. “Come on,” she said lightly. “We’re almost there.”

She picked up the pace again. Could see the faint light from the lair, and she could hear the sound of the piano again. Regina was playing a sad little melody now. Emma did not recognize it, but it immediately made her want to and console Regina for whatever it was that was upsetting her.

At last they made it to the opening to the lair. Emma stopped in the ‘door-opening’ and turned her head to look at Ruby. 

Ruby hesitantly took a step and peeked inside the lair. Emma did too, and she smiled at what she saw. Regina sitting by the piano. She had changed out of the red velvet coat/dress and leather leggings   
and into a thin, full-length black gown with long sleeves. She had taken off the hat and her hair was hanging in soft curls down her back. She looked beautiful. If it hadn’t been for Ruby, Emma would have rushed over there and kissed her. 

“Holy shit,” Ruby muttered quietly. 

Not quietly enough. Regina stopped playing the piano and looked up. It didn’t take long before she noticed Emma and Ruby standing at the opening to the lair. “Well, well,” she drawled as she stood from the low chair. “I do believe I have guests. Mademoiselles, this is indeed an unparallel delight. I had rather hoped that you would come. And now my wish comes true. You have truly made my night!”

Emma snickered, but Ruby looked rather dumbstruck. She wasn’t exactly used to Regina’s way of speaking. 

“Welcome, miss Lucas,” Regina said and urged the girls closer. “Step inside my humble home.”

“Your.... home,” Ruby croaked as she hesitantly stepped inside the lair and looked around. 

Emma followed suit and observed Ruby. She knew very well what an impressive sight this lair was with all its candles glowing softly. She had been completely transfixed the first time she came here, and she saw no reason why Ruby should not be too. While Ruby was looking around, Emma walked over to Regina and unabashedly took her hand. “Hi,” and interlaced their fingers.

“My dear,” Regina said simply and used her free hand to gently pat Emma’s cheek. She glanced at Ruby who was still looking around completely transfixed. “I see that you brought her,” she murmured and looked down at Emma once more. “Exactly which scenario should I prepare myself for?” 

“I think it’ll be okay,” Emma whispered. “She has some questions for you.”

“Has she indeed? Well, that should be interesting. At least she is not yelling anymore. Good job, my dear.”

“Thanks,” Emma said and blushed. She was not used to the ‘my dear’-thing.

“What is in there?” Ruby asked as she nodded towards the room which today was hidden by the black curtain.

“That is where I sleep,” Regina replied. “You are welcome to take a look in there. Not that it is that interesting, of course.”

Ruby walked up the little steps and disappeared behind the curtain. It didn’t take long before Emma heard her exclaim, and she guessed that it meant that Ruby had seen the boat-bed.

“This is strange,” Regina murmured.

Emma gently squeezed her fingers. “I know.”

“I would love to know what’s going on inside her head,” Regina muttered.

“What about you?” Emma asked. “What is going on inside yours? Are you anxious?”

“Anxious?” Regina repeated and chuckled. “No, dear, I am not anxious. I am merely always prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Emma frowned. She didn’t like that.

Ruby re-emerged from the room behind the curtain. Her face was pale, but her voice relatively calm when she said: “that nightgown in the boat..... That belonged to Christine.”

“Yes, it did,” Regina calmly confirmed. “She forgot it here one morning, and I never got the chance to give it back to her.”

Ruby appeared to be swallowing something as she walked towards Regina. Possibly her fear. But she still came across as calm when she stood in front of Regina and handed her the flower patterned diary.   
“Here,” she said quietly. “I think you’ll appreciate this more than me.”

Regina let go of Emma’s hand to take the diary from Ruby. “Thank you. I do valuate this diary quite a lot.” She didn’t seem at all upset that Ruby had read the diary.

Ruby bit her lip. Drew a streak of red hair behind her ear. Seemed a little anxious to make eye contact with Regina as she looked at her. “Did you love her?” she asked, voice only a hushed whisper. “Did you love Christine?”

“More than my own life,” Regina replied, and nobody could doubt the sincerity in her voice. “She was the first person to ever make sense of me.”

Emma swallowed thickly. 

“When she died, I thought I was going to die with her,” Regina continued. “I saw no reason or meaning with continuing. I felt like that for a very long time.” She turned her head and looked at Emma. “Until someone came along and gave me a new sense of purpose.”

Emma smiled softly at her Angel of Music. 

Clearly affected by this, Ruby nodded. “Well, Christine loved you. That much is obvious in the diary. I just wanted to make sure that you really DID love her and that it wasn’t just something you said to   
her......” her voice dwindled as she glanced up at Regina. 

Regina’s dark eyes flashed with anger, but her voice was still calm and collected when she said: “I could never lie to Christine. She loved me, and I loved her.”

Ruby nodded slightly. The sincerity in Regina’s voice was obvious to anyone.

Regina leaned the slightest bit forward and looked Ruby dead in the eyes. “Does that answer your question, miss Lucas?”

“Yes. This one,” Ruby replied. “I do have more questions.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely certain that you do,” Regina drawled and turned back to Emma. “And how are you doing, my dear? You look a bit pale.”

Did she? Emma would have sworn she looked flushed because she happened to be in Regina’s company. But it had been an intense evening, so perhaps that was the reason why she looked pale. She shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“Truly?” Regina clearly did not believe her. 

“Truly,” Emma said firmly. Of course she was better now that she was with Regina again. Regina made everything better.

“Hmm.” Regina brushed her long fingers over Emma’s cheek. “I do not like this color on you one bit, my dear. I prefer when your cheeks have a touch of rose to them.”

On cue, warmth rose in Emma’s cheeks at the touch.

“Exactly,” Regina chuckled. “That’s much better.” 

Was it too much to ask for a kiss? Emma so wanted to stand on her tippy toes so she could brush her lips against Regina’s. But Ruby was here. And to kiss so openly while she was here would most likely be a provocation. 

‘You are Music, sunbursts of Music,’ Regina sang ever so softly while still tracing Emma’s cheekbone with her long finger. ‘And you are Light to me... Oh, you are Music....’

‘Moon bursts of Music,’ Emma sang. Of course she had to join in. ‘And you are Light to..... Me....’

“Very good,” Regina praised and chuckled again. 

“Thank you, Regina,” Emma beamed, proud of the praise.

“You are the one who should be the leading soprano. Not me.”

Emma’s neck made a slight cricking sound as she turned her head. She had completely forgotten that Ruby was here. But now she quickly pulled herself together and mumbled: “I’m not that good.”

“Yes. You are,” Regina said shortly and warningly tapped Emma’s cheek with her finger. “Don’t ever let me hear you sweep your talent under the rug. We did not spend all those hours rehearsing only for you to not acknowledge how talented you are.”

“Your voice was never bad,” Ruby said. “Just a bit... frail. But it definitely isn’t anymore.” She looked at Regina. “How did you do it? How did you teach Christine to sing?”

“I pushed her,” Regina said truthfully and moved her hand away from Emma’s cheek. “Until she snapped at me. Until she left the lair and threatened not to come back because I was too hard on her. But she always did. And I always saw the potential in her voice. I could hear that underneath the ‘rusty old hinge’ there was something else. A beauty that longed to be free. So I gave her a little push.”

Ruby slowly inched closer, and the look in her eyes was a most odd one. Reluctant interest. Emma tilted her head. Was it possible that Ruby too was getting enthralled by Regina? Technically, yes. It WAS possible. She did not seem frightened nor angry with her any longer, and she had just reacted strongly to Regina’s voice in the labyrinth. She had been in a trance. A brief one, but nevertheless, a trance. When it came to that, she was most definitely enthralled by Regina. 

Of course it was a good thing that Ruby was not afraid of Regina nor angry with her, but there was still something inside Emma that protested quietly. Perhaps she did not want Ruby to be enthralled or fascinated by Regina. At least not that much. 

“Where would you have gone?” Ruby asked quietly. “If Christine hadn’t- if you had gotten away?”

“I believe we would have hidden in Paris for a while,” Regina said calmly. “There are many places to hide. And once people had stopped searching for Christine, we would have disappeared.” 

“Where to?” Ruby asked. Still coming closer. 

“Christine often spoke of her childhood in Uppsala,” Regina murmured. “The lakes. The woods. The stillness. Yes. I believe we would have made it to Sweden eventually. Christine could easily have gotten a job at one of the theaters there. With her surname and her voice, that would not have been a problem at all.”

“And what about you?”

Regina gave a little half-smile. “I have always enjoyed composing music, miss Lucas. So perhaps one of the theaters would have been interested in buying some of it. I’m sure Christine would have put in a word for me.” 

Emma’s heart sank. Regina had had a whole future planned with Christine. A calm, peaceful future in Sweden. Far away from Paris. Emma was not jealous (not much anyway), she was mostly just upset that Regina and Christine’s future had been shattered in such a gruesome manner.

“Christine would have loved that.” Ruby’s voice trembled slightly. “She spoke so much about Sweden. She so wanted to go home....”

“I know,” Regina nodded. “I was prepared to give her the whole world on a silver plate. “But then she was taken from me.”

“By Joseph Bouquet,” Ruby said tightly and glanced at Emma. 

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. 

“And now he is dead,” Ruby continued, only looking at Regina now. 

“Indeed,” Regina growled, and her hands curled into fists. “An eye for an eye, miss Lucas. He was not a man but a beast, and I would not have been able to live with myself if I had let him walk for what he did. He needed to pay. So I made him pay. Does that make me a murderer? Yes, indeed. But so was he. He killed out of lust and perverted obsession. I killed...” she shook her head. “Because I WANTED to.   
And because he would have done it again.” she suddenly reached out and grasped Emma’s hand tightly.

Ruby stared at Emma. “He was... He was after you?!”

“He was,” Emma confirmed with a slight nod. 

“My god! How did you find out?” Ruby asked completely shocked.

Emma’s insides curled slightly as she explained how she had started to hear strange footsteps outside her room at night. How she had told Regina, and how it had alarmed Regina immediately. 

“I recognized the pattern from Christine’s diary,” Regina explained as she squeezed Emma’s hand again. “Emma’s story matched hers a little too well and I grew concerned that whoever had murdered Christine was not done.” 

Emma shivered involuntarily. 

“So I started to be around a lot more,” Regina continued. “There might have been an occasion where you spoke to Emma in her room while I was there.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “You were in her ROOM?! Where?!”

“Behind the door,” Regina replied, and the corners of her mouth briefly twitched before she grew serious once more. “I also happened to be in her room one evening where we heard the footsteps again. And that horrible whistling!”

“That’s how I found out that it was him,” Emma piped up. “I recognized the whistling.” 

“So you killed him?” Ruby asked very directly and looked at Regina again. 

“Yes,” Regina openly admitted. “Finding Christine’s killer had been the only thing on my mind for the past three years. The only reason why I kept staying here. To find the person and bring him to justice. And when I discovered that he now was threatening someone I care about.... The choice was easy. I wanted him gone, so I made him disappear. But I’ll admit that the act didn’t leave me in the best headspace.”

“’The best headspace’?!” Emma barked. “You tried to kill yourself!”

“That is not relevant.”

“You did?” Ruby asked softly, and Emma saw something in her eyes when she looked at Regina. Pity.

“No,” Regina said quickly.

“Yes, you did!” Emma protested and shot a rare glare at Regina. 

“I did not jump,” Regina said firmly. “You put an effective stop to that, my dear.”

“Yes! And I’m glad I did!” Emma took both of Regina’s hands in hers and squeezed them.

Regina smiled briefly and gently at her before looking at Ruby again. “Now you know the entire story about the Phantom of the Opera. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it. Report me to the teachers if you like, but know that when they come down here to search for me, I will be long gone.”

“Ruby, please don’t tell anyone!” Emma was begging, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Please!” She looked at the girl she once had called her friend. The girl she had lied to for several months. The girl who had every right to tell the teachers about her findings.

Ruby folded her arms across her chest. “How exactly is this even going to work out? Your parents are coming in two weeks, Emma. What the hell are you going to tell them?”

“Why, Little Swan is planning on introducing her parents to the strange woman who lives in the catacombs,” Regina said sardonically and rolled her dark eyes. “Isn’t that right, Little Swan?”

Ignoring Regina’s scorching sarcastic remark, Emma said: “they can’t know either!”

Ruby bristled slightly. “So you’re planning on lying to them too?” 

Emma released Regina’s hands and took a step forward. Looked her friend dead in the eye. “What would you have done?” she asked quietly. “What would you do if you were me?” 

“I....” Ruby deflated and dropped her arms on either side. “I would have lied too. I wouldn’t have liked it, but expecting someone to ever understand the truth would be too much of a risk for me to take.”

“Exactly,” Emma whispered. “I cannot tell them, Ruby. I just can’t. I can’t risk that they’ll...” She swallowed thickly. Reached back and fumbled blindly after Regina’s hand. Found it and quickly interlaced their fingers. “They’ll send her away, Ruby. Regina will go to prison!” 

“Which I would be able to handle,” Regina said firmly. “It is just a jailcell, my dear. I have been stuck in worse places. And I have already told you a million times that I do not want you to take any risks for my sake. No. The decision is ultimately miss Lucas’.”

Ruby rubbed the back of her neck. Then she sighed heavily. “Why does it have to be you, Emma? Of all people, why does it have to be YOU who found the Phantom of the Opera-“

“I’ve asked her to go away several times, but she simply refuses,” Regina interjected and looked slightly amused. 

“Had it been.... anyone but you, I wouldn’t have had any trouble making a decision,” Ruby continued and started walking back and forward in the lair. “Well, except if it had been Belle, but then I would obviously have been pissed at her for other reasons.” She stopped her wandering back and forward and looked at Regina. “You’ve killed someone.”

“Yes,” Regina said calmly. 

“That should be reason enough for reporting you,” Ruby mumbled. “And I probably would have if it hadn’t been for Christine....” she trailed off and blinked rapidly. “No one wanted to believe me when I said that Christine’s death wasn’t an accident. Everyone kept saying that it wasn’t true. That it had been an accident. Or suicide.” 

“Bullshit!” Regina spat. “Christine wanted life more than most people.” 

“Right?” Ruby said almost eagerly. “I kept waiting for someone to come forward and admit to it. I even started to sort of believe her story about the Phantom of the Opera because it meant that there was someone to blame.” She looked quickly at Regina. “No offense.” 

“None taken.”

“But justice never came,” Ruby continued. “No one came forward, and Christine’s death became a story in the opera house. One that I’ve told myself, I’ll admit that. But I told it as it was. A mystery. I didn’t add to it or made my own conclusions. And all this time I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering what really happened to her.” she took a deep breath and fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “And now I know.” Her voice trembled. “That she really was murdered. It wasn’t an accident. She didn’t drown. She didn’t commit suicide. Someone took her life. Joseph Bouquet took her life.” she rubbed a hand over her eyes. “So as much as I should report you for having killed a man, all I can think about is what KIND of man you killed. A murderer. The person who killed my best friend. You got justice for Christine.   
The only thing I’ve been wanting for the past three years.” She took another deep breath and looked at Regina. “I am not gonna report you. I won’t tell anyone about this. Christine wouldn’t have wanted me to send the woman she loves to jail.”

Relief washed over Emma and she staggered forward. “Ruby,” she croaked. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Yes, I suppose a thank you is in order,” Regina said stiffly. “Christine was right about you, miss Lucas. Little Swan is right about you.”

“’Little Swan’?” Ruby echoed and looked at Emma with a raised eyebrow.

Emma blushed and shrugged halfheartedly. She had explained many things tonight. But there were certain things that could not be explained.

To Be Continued....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: more of Ruby's meeting with Regina.


	49. Secret and Strange Angel

”Don’t touch that, miss Lucas.”

Ruby hastily withdrew her hand from the sheet of paper she had been about to touch. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. 

“I don’t like when people touch my music,” Regina said lazily and without ceasing to brush her hair. 

That was very true. Regina did indeed not like when people touched her sheets of music. Emma knew that from experience. 

“Shouldn’t the two of you be heading back, by the way?” Regina lazily drawled as she ran the brush through her thick, dark hair again. 

Emma did not feel like leaving one bit. She hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss Regina at all tonight. And obviously, that was not very satisfying. 

Ruby didn’t look like she wanted to leave either. She was still glancing around in the lair in wonder. Glancing at Regina in wonder. She was clearly fascinated, and while Emma of course was relieved that Ruby was not going to tell anyone, she also didn’t like that Ruby was looking THAT much at Regina. Yes, it was a huge relief that Ruby would keep the secret and still was Emma’s friend and all, but honestly, she did not have to give Regina such intense looks, did she?

Emma knew that feeling jealous was ridiculous. But that was nonetheless exactly what she was feeling. 

Regina hummed absentmindedly to herself as she brushed through her long hair again. “Little Swan,” she said after a moment. “Do you happen to have an extra hair tie with you?”

“Yes,” Emma said and quickly glanced down at her right wrist to assure that the hair tie she always had sitting there was in fact there. Of course it was. 

“Excellent,” Regina said and gave Emma an exaggerated wave. “Come.”

Emma willingly trotted over to the place where Regina was sitting on the ground. She lifted her hand, ready to pull the hair tie off of her wrist, but when she saw that Regina had started braiding her hair, her fingers started to itch mysteriously, and she said: “can I do that?” 

Regina gave her a funny look. “You want to braid my hair?” 

“Yes, please,” Emma said almost cheerfully and gave Regina a rare taste of the sass that sometimes bubbled just below the surface. 

“Well, be my guest,” Regina snorted. 

Emma eagerly sat down next to Regina and started to braid her thick hair in a side braid.

Regina absentmindedly hummed to herself. She probably would have continued for the rest of the night if Ruby hadn’t said: “I know that one! Emma hummed it one day! And then she denied knowing where it came from.....”

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. 

“Dear me,” Regina said without sounding the least bit concerned. “Such indiscretion, Little Swan.” But she wasn’t actually scolding Emma. If anything, she sounded amused. “You know what I think?” she continued and flashed Emma a lazy smile. “I think you should sing the song for miss Lucas.”

Emma made a face. “Right now?”

“Aren’t my songs worth singing?” Regina calmly retorted and raised an eyebrow.

“’Think of Me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye,’” Emma immediately sang and kept her eyes fixed on Regina’s hair. She felt a bit awkward, singing in front of Ruby, so she chose to pretend that it was just her and Regina in the lair. “’Remember me every so often, promise me you’ll try. On that day- that not so distant day when you are far away and free! If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me....’”

“Keep going, dear,” Regina encouraged with a slight chuckle. “Don’t be shy. Your voice isn’t normally this delicate.” 

She was right. Ruby’s presence made Emma feel slightly awkward. She twisted another one of Regina’s dark locks into the braid and was glad she had something to do with her hands. “’And though its clear, though it was always clear,’” she sang and tried to make her voice sound less delicate and more steady and secure. “’That this was never meant to be, if you happen to remember, stop, and think of me! Think of august when the trees were green. Don’t think about the way things might have been...’” she concluded the braid and carefully wrapped her hair tie around the end of it. “’Think of Me! Think of me waking, silently and resigned. Imagine me! Trying to hard to push you from my mind! Think of me, please say you’ll think of me, whatever else you choose to do! There will never be a day when I won’t think of.... You!’” 

Regina abruptly stood from the floor and walked over to the piano. She sat down and began playing the intermission. With one hand. She used her other hand to teasingly urge Emma forward.

Now it was incredibly easy for Emma to forget that Ruby was there. She eagerly walked over to stand next to Regina by the piano. Her eyes were fixed on Regina’s long fingers as they danced over the piano keys. 

There was something seductive about Regina playing the piano. There was definitely something seductive about Regina playing the piano. The way she did it looked so elegant. So effortless. Regina had beautiful hands. And her fingers was...

Emma swallowed something and forced her less than innocent thoughts back. This was no time to think like that. When Regina had finished playing the intermission, Emma started singing again: ‘flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade! They have their season, so do we. But please promise me that sometimes, you will... think.....’ 

“Can you do it?” Regina half-teased as she stopped playing, but Emma could sense some real concern behind the question. That made Emma smile. She liked when Regina was concerned about her. But it also encouraged her to do this even though her voice still was a bit tired from earlier. 

She took a quick breath and then started to vocalize as Regina accompanied her on the piano. Her throat was a bit scratchy from earlier, but luckily, it was not something that could be heard in her voice.   
Her voice was every bit light and airy still. She had no issues with letting it climb up in the cadenza she once found so difficult to perform. Now this was the easiest thing in the world, and she even had enough surplus to turn her head and look at Regina as she sang. 

Regina flashed her a little smile. She never stopped accompanying her on the piano, and she did not say anything either. Just mouthed ‘keep going. Climb higher’. 

And so Emma did. She tipped her head back, prepared herself to hit that last note in the cadenza. 

There was no problems with that either. She even held the last note in the cadenza a bit longer than usually and earned herself a raised eyebrow from Regina before finally letting go and allowing her voice to fade into the final: ‘of me!’

“There,” Regina said briskly as she concluded the song with one last ‘pling!’ on the piano. “Well done, darling.”

Emma grinned. Because of the ‘darling’. And because she did not even feel out of breath.

“Bravo,” Ruby said, making Emma jerk slightly because she once again had managed to completely forget that Ruby was there. 

"Thanks!" Emma smiled. Proudly.

“Why are you hiding in the backrow?” Ruby continued, clearly not noticing Emma’s little gasp. “You should be standing in the first row. No, screw that, you should be standing next to me so we could perform together.”

“I’m comfortable in the backrow,” Emma said, using the excuse she always made whenever Regina brushed this particular subject. 

“But you’re wasting your voice!” Ruby pointed out. 

“Indeed,” Regina agreed. 

“I am not,” Emma replied, trying her best to explain. “I don’t need to be the center of attention. I don’t want anyone to start asking questions. These lessons are for my benefits only. To stop sounding so   
breathy, and to get rid of my anxiety when I sing. And I’ve achieved that.”

“Then why do you keep coming, hmm?” Regina half-teased and played a joking little melody on the piano.

But teasing was the last thing on Emma’s mind as she quietly said: “you know why.”

“Yes,” Regina agreed and played another little melody. “I do.”

“So, you just want to save your voice forever?” Ruby asked skeptically. 

“Perhaps not forever, but right now, I enjoy singing for Regina only,” Emma said and smiled at her mentor. 

Ruby sighed and muttered something that sounded a bit like Regina being some kind of reversed Ursula from the Little Mermaid.

“I’m sure that’s a compliment,” Regina said lightly as she stood from the little chair by the piano. “Ursula was a wise woman.”

Ruby looked around in the lair once more. “This place is beautiful, but.... don’t you ever want to leave?” 

“And go where?” Regina asked calmly. “I only have little money. Certainly not enough to pay for a place to live. The streets of Paris doesn’t really apply to me any longer. Perhaps I have become too old for that sort of thing. And my childhood home is burned to the ground. Though even if it had not been, I certainly wouldn’t have come back. I can imagine that the place would be full of the echoes of my   
mother’s crying, and the ghost of the father who left.”

Ruby gave Regina a curious look. “Who were your parents?”

“Ruby!” Emma exclaimed. She couldn’t just ask Regina that kind of questions! It wasn’t.... allowed. 

Regina gave Ruby a long look and her eyes seemed to darken ever so slightly. Her voice was dark too when she spoke: “my mother was a pathetic woman who built her entire existence around the perfect husband. The perfect child and the perfect home. When she discovered that she could have none of the things she wished for, her existence collapsed, and she started taking out her misery on her daughter who only ever wanted to please her mother and went to great lengths in doing so. Ultimately, she failed, and my mother succumbed to the flames. I believe that was the best thing for her. My father was an overly ambitious man who strived to achieve perfection. That being the perfect wife and a strong son whom he could show off to the world. When he found out that the son he so desired turned out to be a girl with a disfigured face, HIS entire existence collapsed. The ambitious man turned into a pathetic little coward who couldn’t bear the idea of such vital parts of his life not being perfect, and he left and disappeared in thin air never to look back. Someday I should like to get my hands around to get my hands around his pathetic little neck....”

“Regina,” Emma said. Because she could sense that Regina was going off-key and Ruby’s eyes had gone a little wide.

Regina snapped out of it. “My apologies, but I do not like discussing my home life. Those were my parents. Do you have any other questions, miss Lucas?”

“No,” Ruby said quietly. “I’m... I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Regina said lightly. “I probably should be less sensitive about the subject. My mother died a long time ago, and my father... well....” she trailed off and glanced towards the ceiling.

Emma instinctively moved closer and took Regina’s hand to comfort her. 

“Anyway,” Regina said, snapping out of it once more and giving Emma’s hand a little squeeze. “It is getting late and you have rehearsal tomorrow. And I’m tired and not in the mood for anymore questions. At least not tonight.” 

“Does that mean that I can come back again?” Ruby asked eagerly. 

Emma immediately had to swallow down something. The impulse to say ‘no!”

“Well,” Regina chuckled slightly. “Now that you know how to get here, I suppose it’ll be quite difficult to keep you away.”

“I’d like to come back,” Ruby admitted and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “This place is just so....”

Oh yes, Emma knew exactly what Ruby meant. This place was indeed so... everything. 

“You can come back,” Regina sniggered. “Now and then. But no more questions, alright? I think I’ve answered enough questions tonight.”

“I will be as quiet as a mouse,” Ruby vowed, but it didn’t take long before she bit her lip and admitted: “I actually have one more question, though.”

“Goodness me.” Regina rolled her eyes, a rather dramatic effect against the white mask. Then she looked at Emma. “Why did you not tell me that she is a chatterbox?”

“I...”

“What’s going to happen when Emma leaves the opera house?” Ruby interrupted. 

“I’m gonna stay in Paris,” Emma said immediately. “Find a place to stay. Somewhere that’s big enough for two.”

“You’re going to live together?” Ruby said, skeptically raising an eyebrow. “And just HOW are you going to explain that to your parents?”

“How indeed,” Regina muttered. 

Emma quickly turned to her. “If they met you... If they got the chance to get to know you-”

“They would rightfully worry about their daughter,” Regina interrupted. “And besides, how on earth should they ever ‘get to know me’ as you put it? Are you planning on introducing us when they arrive here in two weeks, perhaps?”

“No!” Emma said. “Of course not! But maybe- in a few years or so- when I’m all settled in a new place I could tell them that I’ve met someone.” 

“Hmm.” Regina gave her a long look and her mouth twisted slightly under the mask. “I can’t figure out whether to be impressed because you’ve thought this through, or to be shocked because you’re planning on lying to your parents for years to come.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Emma asked somewhat impatiently. “I can’t just leave you behind! I won’t!”

Regina sighed in that familiar ‘what am I going to do with you’-manner. “That is..... Awfully romantic of you, dear.” 

“And insane,” Ruby said flatly. “It’ll blow up in your face!”

“Most certainly a risk,” Regina agreed with her. 

But Emma was optimistic. “No, it won’t,” she said confidently. “Not if we’re being smart about it.”

“Well, you’ve managed to lie for me for six months,” Ruby said a bit surly. “So maybe you’ll get away with this too...”

“They are your parents, dear,” Regina said gently. “Remember that.”

“My mind has been made up,” Emma said firmly and lifted her chin. Of course she felt bad about continuously lying to her parents, but she did not have any other choice. They would never understand this. If she told them about how she had fallen in love with a woman who lived in the catacombs of the Opera Garnier, they would report Regina to Mr. Gold and the police. And they would take Emma back to Storybrooke before she could even blink. She would never get the chance to explain that Regina wasn’t dangerous. They were so protective of her. Actually, they had sheltered her a little bit. It had taken Emma a long time to realize that, but the more she thought about it, the more she came to the realization that she probably was shy and quiet for a reason. Not that she was blaming her parents or anything, she knew that they had always meant well, and it wasn’t that they had locked her away in a tower or anything. They were just trying to look after her.

But when you are repeatedly to be careful, you can end up seeing threats everywhere and get overly anxious. And Emma suspected that could have happened to her if she hadn’t gone to Paris. It had already started. Emma had been about to say no to going because she was afraid.

“Little Swan. Kindly answer when I’m talking to you.”

Emma blinked. “What?” 

Regina sighed. Clearly massively disappointed. 

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. “I was just thinking.”

“Well, I can’t even begin to imagine what about,” Regina said lightly. “And either way, it is high time that the two of you leave. It is getting late.” 

“It actually is, Em,” Ruby said. “We should get going.”

“Right,” Emma said quietly. “Yeah, I suppose so.” she tried not to sound too disappointed, but she was. She still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss Regina yet. 

“Off you pop then,” Regina said briskly. “Bye-bye!”

Ruby gave a slightly hushed goodbye and quickly went over to the opening of the lair and disappeared through it.

But Emma hovered back. She didn’t want to leave just yet.

“Well, what are you waiting for, dear?” Regina asked and raised one visible eyebrow. “Off you pop.” 

“I just wanted to, uhmm... say goodnight,” Emma said halfheartedly. 

“Oh. Well. Goodnight then,” Regina said and laughed. 

But Emma was not amused. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes,” Regina agreed. “But I also know that your friend are right outside.” She glanced towards the opening of the lair Ruby had just disappeared through. Then she turned her attention back to Emma and   
smiled. “Thank you, Little Swan. For making her believe.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Emma said quickly. “Christine did. You’re not mad that I showed her the diary, are you?”

“No,” Regina replied and patted Emma’s cheek lightly. “You did what you had to do to make her understand. That is not something I could ever be angry about. Tonight you ensured that I don’t have to   
flee, and for that I am grateful.” She cupped Emma’s cheeks, tilted her face downwards and then kissed her forehead gently. 

Emma wasn’t quite sure whether it was because of how gentle Regina’s touch was or if it was the softness in her voice, but either way, she suddenly stood on her tippy toes and pressed her lips against Regina’s. She clearly took Regina by surprise because she gasped slightly before quickly composing herself once more. 

Emma threw her arms around Regina’s neck and sighed in pure relief over finally being able to kiss Regina again. She was pleasantly surprised when Regina’s hands skated down her sides and ended up her hips. She was actually gripping Emma’s hips quite tightly. Her fingers were digging into Emma’s skin.

The next sound coming out of Emma’s mouth was more a moan than a sigh. She couldn’t help herself. Kissing Regina always made her feel all weak and stupid. Her knees buckled, and if it hadn’t been for Regina’s strong grip on her hips she surely would have fallen. Of course she was falling right now too. Not physically. But she was still falling. For Regina. Another sound tumbled from her lips. It was a sound she would have been embarrassed to make in any other situation, but right now she didn’t care. That was what kissing Regina did to her. It made her make bold sounds.

And it made think bold thoughts too. Like.... staying here tonight would be a great idea. Staying here and laying close to Regina in the boat bed....

But of course things did not go that way. Much too soon, Regina broke the kiss and moved her hands away from her hips. “I’m screwed,” she said simply. “You should go before I end up doing something really stupid.”

“Like what?” Emma asked rather breathlessly.

Regina laughed almost bitterly. “You don’t want to know, dear.” 

“Yes, I do!” Emma insisted. “I do want to know! Please tell me?” 

“No,” Regina said firmly. “Absolutely not. Now off you pop, dear. Your friend is waiting for you.” 

Emma grumbled to herself. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay here with Regina. 

But she also didn’t want Ruby to get lost in the underground labyrinth. Meaning that she only had one choice. 

“Goodnight,” she said slightly annoyed. 

“Goodnight, my Little Swan,” Regina hummed and sweetly pecked Emma’s forehead once more. “Sweet dreams.” 

“Thanks,” Emma muttered half-heartedly. She already knew what she would dream of tonight. Regina. Of course. She always dream about Regina. Of her smile, her eyes, her mouth kissing her, her hands   
touching her....

“Little Swan,” Regina interrupted. “The look in your eyes is one I am curious about and at the same time I don’t want to know anything about it. Now leave. At once.” 

And so Emma stalked out of the lair on legs that still felt quite weak. 

She found Ruby standing in the tunnel where it split into two paths. Within reasonable distance of the lair. So she hadn’t heard or seen anything. That was a good thing. 

“You good?” Ruby asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

“Yeah. Of course. I was just saying goodnight,” Emma said casually. 

“Uh-huh...”

Emma frowned. “What does that mean?” 

“Your lipstick is smeared..”

Oh god! Emma quickly brought a hand up and rubbed it over her lips. But her frown only deepened when she looked at the back of her hand. There was not a trace of lipstick on it. “It is not!” she said to   
Ruby. 

“No, it’s not,” Ruby lightly agreed. “But I got my answer.” 

“That was hardly fair,” Emma muttered, cursing herself for having fallen for it. 

Ruby snickered. “She’s a.... character.” 

“Yes. She is.”

“The lair is amazing. All those candles,” Ruby continued. “I get why you like spending time there. But you don’t go there for the candle lights only, do you?” she chuckled lightly. 

Emma blushed and dipped her head. “No, I don’t.”

“You’re all smitten with her,” Ruby said with slight chuckle. 

Emma blushed harder. She couldn’t exactly run from that. 

“And she seems pretty sweet on you too,” Ruby continued. “She couldn’t stop looking at you back there.” 

“She couldn’t?” Emma had to ask. 

“Nope. All the time while you were singing, she was looking at you and not the piano.”

“Really?” Emma’s stomach filled with warmth. She had not noticed that at all. She had been so focused on singing and doing a good job.

“Mmm.”

That was enough to send Emma off to cloud nine, and she barely noticed where she walked as she and Ruby headed back through the tunnel. Her head was full of thoughts about Regina. And she was gravely disappointed that Regina hadn’t wanted to tell her what kind of ‘stupid’ thing it was that she wanted to do. Emma only had a vague idea, but her stomach still bubbled at the thought. Tomorrow night she would visit Regina without Ruby....

“You’re pretty close with her, aren’t you?” Ruby asked casually and brought Emma out of her musings. 

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “I am.” She was proud to say that. 

“Hmm...” Ruby went quiet for a moment.

“This way,” Emma said, swiftly leading Ruby in the right direction. She didn’t want her to accidentally get lost down here. It still felt rather surreal, having Ruby down here with her. But it was a good thing too. Yes. Emma felt good about having told Ruby the truth. And she was relieved that their friendship seemed to have survived this. That the person responsible for Christine’s death had been found and punished had weighed harder than Emma’s betrayal. And Ruby had seen for herself that Regina was not at all dangerous. Emma was relieved that Regina had been so compliant tonight and hadn’t acted like, well........ The Phantom of the Opera. 

It felt kinda good that someone knew of it. That there was one person less to hide it from. Ruby was okay with it. That sort of gave Emma hope for the future. That when she told her parents someday, it wouldn’t be so bad. 

But she couldn’t tell them anything right now. It would have to wait until she and Regina were settled in an apartment somewhere in Paris. Emma’s parents could never know how they had met each other. 

It was terrible of her to lie, but they would never understand it. They would never understand how much Regina meant to her. 

Emma tried not to sigh as her thoughts once again drifted back to Regina. What was she doing right now? Had she already fallen asleep, or was she busy composing? She often did that at night. Awake at night and asleep during the day. Like a vampire, almost. 

“How close?” 

“What?” Emma asked absentmindedly. She was still thinking about Regina and what she was doing right now. 

“How close are you with... Regina?” 

“What do you mean?” Emma distractedly rubbed her arms. It was a bit nippy in the tunnel. 

“Are you and her... you know?”

“Are we what?” it was rude, but Emma wasn’t really focusing on what Ruby was saying. She found that thinking about Regina was just a bit more interesting. 

“Are you sleeping with her?” 

“Ruby!” Emma squeaked, now a hundred percent aware and slightly high pitched voice. Her head whipped around as she hastily glanced back. “Keep your voice down!”

“Is that a yes then?” Ruby sounded completely nonchalant, and her expression was neutral too. 

“No!” Emma said firmly, cheeks aflame. “It is not, and I am not!”

“Oh. Okay. So you’ve just thought about it then,” Ruby said calmly. "Gotcha."

Emma wished that she wasn’t blushing so much. “What makes you say-“

“Emma,” Ruby interrupted and scoffed. “I have eyes, you know. You were looking at her like you wanted to rip off her clothes the entire time.....”

“Stop!” Emma begged, heat rapidly spreading to her neck and chest. She didn’t want to hear of it, but she had a feeling that Ruby was right. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Ruby half-laughed and gave Emma slight nudge. “She was giving you the same kind of look.”

Emma’s mouth felt very dry now. Was that true? Had Regina really been looking at her like ‘that’? She swallowed something. If that was the case, why couldn’t they just...

“Be careful.”

“About sex?” Emma asked a tad too bluntly. She wasn’t really in control over her mouth when she was thinking about Regina. 

“NO,” Ruby said and wrinkled her nose. “I am so NOT giving you advices about THAT! And the whole condom talk would be wasted anyway...”

“Ruby!” Emma almost groaned. “Stop it!”

Ruby laughed but then sobered up. “I just meant in general, okay? Be careful in general.” 

“I am being careful,” Emma said, protesting slightly. “I’ve been careful for six months.”

“Oh, I know,” Ruby rolled her eyes. “But be particularly careful right now, okay? Your parents are coming in two weeks. Everybody’s parents is coming in two weeks. The place will be crawling with people, and I’m worried that this will blow up in your face. I don’t want you to get busted for this. And I don’t want Regina to get busted either. Oddly enough, I like her.”

Emma tilted her head. “Even though she’s done... well, not nice things?”

“The ‘Bouquet thing’,” Ruby said and folded her arms across her chest as they walked. 

“Yeah. That.”

“Well, generally I’m not a huge fan of murder,” Ruby said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “I definitely would have preferred if things could have been handled differently and that murder hadn’t been necessary...”

“Me, too,” Emma said quickly. 

“But honestly, the guy was scum,” Ruby continued. “He killed an eighteen year old girl. He was exactly the same three years ago as he was today. Liked his alcohol. Sometimes he would hang around in the hallways and proposition some of the female choir members. In a way that made it seem like he WASN’T propositioning them, of course. Somehow he got away with pretending that he was a harmless goof and nothing more. But after you’ve told me how he came to your door at night, I’ve realized how dangerous he was and that he was NOT joking when propositioning us. He was serious. I bet he crossed a line with Christine at some point and she rejected him. He got pissed and started following her around, and the rest....” she cleared her throat. “Well, the rest is history. So even though I would have preferred if he had been banged up in jail for the rest of his miserable life, I get why Regina did what she did. He was dangerous. And I think she’s right. He would have done it again. He was dangerous. And besides, how else would he be removed from the opera house? I like Malena, she’s a great teacher, but I’m worried that she wouldn’t have believed you if you had reported Bouquet. He was Mr. Gold’s private friend and all. And she would ask for solid evidence. A whistling in the dormitory at night isn’t a lot to on. And you couldn’t tell her about Christine’s diary-“

“Because that would mean that she had found out about Regina,” Emma finished the sentence. 

“Exactly,” Ruby nodded. “So basically, it comes down to this: I’m not a fan of murder. But I’m not a fan of a creepy man roaming about the opera house either. Maybe he got what he deserved. Justice served and all. I wasn’t Christine’s lover or whatever, but I wanted justice for her as much as Regina.” 

“I know,” Emma said quietly. “I know, Ruby.”

“I suppose she has... eased things for me,” Ruby murmured. “I know that I seem cheery and all that every day, but I’ve actually been feeling shitty ever since Christine died. It has been nagging me every single day. Some nights I haven’t been able to sleep because I kept wondering what the fuck happened to her. Now I know, and I’m grateful for that.” She smiled a bit at Emma. “That’s why I’m going to keep your Phantom of the Opera a secret.”

“Thank you, Ruby. I’m so grateful,” Emma said earnestly. “And I know that Regina is too.”

“Do you think I could come down to the lair with you again?” Ruby asked nonchalantly. “Or would you rather be alone with her....”

“Of course you can come back,” Emma said quickly, blushing again. “Regina won’t mind that.”

“Won’t she?” Ruby chuckled quietly. “If you say so, Em.”

“She’s just not used to guests,” Emma said and chuckled a bit too. 

“No, I’m sure she isn’t,” Ruby said, growing serious again. “The lair is beautiful, but I can’t imagine spending my every moment there. Never getting out of there...”

“Why do you think I want her to live with me when I leave the opera house,” Emma said simply. 

“I get it. I do. But do you really think it’s possible? I mean, with your parents and all?”

“It has to be possible.” Emma had a mission. To get Regina out of the lair and into the sunlight where she belonged. And she wouldn’t give up until she had done what she intended to do. 

They had made it back to the back of the mirror, and they joined forces to push it aside. Ruby slipped through first, and Emma followed suit. 

“And just like that we’re back,” Ruby said and rubbed her arms slightly as she looked around in Emma’s little room. “It almost feels surreal.” 

“I know,” Emma nodded. She had felt exactly the same way the first time she had come back through the mirror. 

“Well... Thank you for the expedition to the great unknown,” Ruby chuckled. “It was... pretty wild.” 

“It was,” Emma agreed. 

“You know, if someone had told me this morning that I would meet the Phantom of the Opera tonight, I’m pretty sure I would have laughed,” Ruby continued, shaking her head slightly. “But I’m definitely   
not laughing now. See you later, Em. And don’t slip away tonight.” 

“I won’t,” Emma promised. 

Ruby teasingly quirked an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you?” then she laughed and left.

Emma undressed and then fell into bed after a very long day.....

Time went by quickly. 

Suddenly, it was the evening before the masquerade ball and concert. And also the day before Emma’s parents would arrive in Paris. Something she was both looking forward and dreading, to be honest.   
Of course she was looking forward to seeing her parents again, it had been a six months since she last saw them, but their arrival also meant that she was going to spend time with them after the concert. 

Meaning that there was no way she could slip away to spend time with Regina. Her parents were going to stay in a hotel Paris, and Emma was going to stay there with them. Of course. 

“One whole week,” she mumbled and felt sort of like a brat for complaining about her parents’ arrival. 

Regina chuckled and tapped a finger against Emma’s forehead. “At least they won’t be there for the masquerade ball.” 

“That’s true,” Emma agreed. The masquerade ball was taking place in the afternoon while the concert would be taking place at night. “But neither will you.”

“We’ve already talked about that, my darling.” Regina said. “Don’t pout. It’s not becoming of you.” 

“I’m not pouting,” Emma grumbled. Definitely pouting. But at the same time not entirely dissatisfied. How could she be when she was laying with her head in Regina’s lap and Regina was stroking her hair and forehead? She had spread the feather cloak out on the stone floor, so it wasn’t so hard to lie on for Emma. 

A bit earlier, Emma had very carefully carried two cups of steaming hot chocolate down to the lair. She had also brought sandwiches and cookies. Combined with the cloak that had been spread out on the floor, it was almost like an impromptu-indoor picnic. Regina had laughed when Emma cheerfully had said that.

“You’ll be going into the city for once, dear,” Regina said and ran her fingers through Emma’s hair again. “Enjoy that. And rest assure that I will still be here when you get back.” 

“I wish you were going with me,” Emma said unabashedly. 

“Little Swan...”

“I know it’s not possible,” Emma said quickly. “But I still wish it was though.”

“You’re very sweet,” Regina said and petted Emma’s cheek now. 

Perhaps it could have sounded condescending, but Emma chose to believe that it was not. She closed her eyes. So comfortable here with her head in Regina’s lap. She still couldn’t quite believe that she had gotten away with it. Normally, she was not this bold. But when Regina had sat down on the floor as she so often did, Emma had simply walked over, lain down and then placed her head in Regina’s lap. 

Regina had been somewhat startled and had vaguely muttered that it wasn’t a good idea. But at the same time, she had made no attempt to remove Emma’s head from her lap. Instead she had started to run her fingers through Emma’s hair, and because of that, Emma was on the verge of falling asleep now. She was so relaxed and comfortable. Some of the tension had definitely left her body after Ruby had learned her secret. It was a relief that someone else knew too. Ruby had kept her word and hadn’t uttered a single word to anyone about Regina’s existence. But every morning, she knocked on Emma’s door, came inside her room and asked how ‘our mutual friend’ was doing today. Emma had brought Ruby down to the lair twice since her first visit. 

Regina had been polite. Not overly forthcoming, but not cold either. She had answered every single question Ruby had for her. Which hadn’t been overly personal. Ruby had learned her lesson the last time. The second time she came to the lair, she had mostly been interested in looking around the lair. Regina had graciously let her. Ruby had found many trinkets. Including an empty wine bottle. It didn’t take her long to recognize it as the bottle Malena had searched high and low for, and after having recovered from the indignation of it all, Ruby had been very amused at discovering that Regina had been the culprit all along. To which Regina merely had shrugged and said: ‘sometimes a girl needs wine.’

The next evening, she had told Emma that she was well aware what Ruby was doing for her, and so she had vowed to herself to be on her ‘best behavior’ as she called it. That had made Emma chuckle. 

The next time Emma had brought Ruby to the lair, she had been interested in hearing Regina sing. Mainly because Regina had been sitting by the piano when they arrived. She had been singing a song that went: ‘home, where music fills the air, and I’m home, where a thousand lovers cry, swoon and sigh, and I’m home where every violin plays a treat as sweet honeycomb. Where ever music plays, I’m...Home.’ 

Emma had not known that song, but of course she found it to be every bit as beautiful as the other songs. 

So had Ruby. “It is beautiful,” she had said. “What is it called?”

“’Home,’” had been Regina’s simple answer. There had been a look of yearning in her eyes, and Emma had gotten the sudden and intense urge to leave the opera house, claim the money she had inherited from her grandmother and then use said money to rent an apartment where she and Regina could live.   
Ruby had then asked if she could see Emma and Regina sing together. Regina had let it be up to Emma, and after some consideration, Emma had said yes. And so she and Regina had sung together by the piano. First ‘You Are Music’ and then ‘The Beauty Underneath’. Ruby had applauded them when they were done, and Regina had even done a little mock-bow when standing from the piano. 

It was a strange little friendship between the three of them, but it actually worked out pretty well. Ruby found Regina to be a-okay, as she called it, and Regina, while not admitting to liking Ruby, certainly tolerated her. Especially because Ruby had brought a little bag of candy with her the last time. That was another thing Regina would never admit. Liking candy. 

“Little Swan?”

“Huh?” Emma opened her eyes. She had almost been drifting off while thinking. 

“I’ve been talking to you for the past two minutes,” Regina said flatly and clicked her tongue in dismay.

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Regina replied, shooting Emma another look of dismay. She hated repeating herself. “That when you get into the city, could you do me a favor?” 

“Anything,” Emma said immediately.

“I was wondering if you could buy me a dress?” Regina asked. “It has been ages since I last had a completely new dress. Nothing fancy. Just one from one of the malls. I have some money. I’m not asking   
you to steal anything. It’s quite enough that you’re stealing food for me every night.”

“Something that I am happily doing,” Emma said firmly. “And you don’t have to pay me for the dress.” 

“I insist,” Regina said even more firmly. The subject was clearly not up for debate. 

“Alright,” Emma surrendered. “What kind of dress would you like?”

“It doesn’t matter. I trust your taste. As long as it is a new dress.” She thoughtfully played with Emma’s hair. “It has been a while since I bought anything, so I do have quite a bit of money on my hand. Perhaps I should ask you to fetch something more...” she trailed off and so did her fingers. She stopped playing with Emma’s hair and then decided: “no. I’ll settle for the dress.”

“I’ll find you one,” Emma vowed. Suddenly, finding a new dress for Regina had become the most important thing in the world. She would search high and low for the perfect dress, and she would have no qualms with using a bit of her own money if she found a dress that costed more than what Regina could pay for. Regina deserved pretty things. She deserved the whole world.

“Thank you, my darling,” Regina smiled and resumed playing with her hair. “I so appreciate that.”

“It’s no problem,” Emma was quick to assure her. She looked up at her mentor. “And I wouldn’t mind finding other things for you if you need anything else.”

“I do, but I’m not asking you to find me those,” Regina chuckled. 

“Why not? What is it?” 

“Personal items.” 

“Such as....?”

Regina barked out a laughter and scratched her fingers against Emma’s scalp. “Underwear, Little Swan.” 

“Oh,” Emma blushed furiously and felt ridiculous. Underwear was a perfectly natural thing, for crying out loud! But the problem was that she kept imagining how Regina would look in said underwear. “I   
can... buy that for you too,” she squeaked. 

“You wish,” Regina laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can fabricate some underwear. I’m used to it.” 

“Uh-huh,” Emma said vaguely and tried NOT to think about Regina’s underwear. 

“Let’s settle with the dress,” Regina decided. “And perhaps it is time for you to get up, dear.”

“Whyyyy?” Emma whined. “I’m so comfortable here!”

“Mmm. Perhaps you’ll end up getting TOO comfortable lying there.”

“And why would that be such a bad thing?” Emma murmured as she closed her eyes again, almost purring at the way Regina was playing with her hair. “Can’t you sing something for me?” 

“What would you like me to sing, my darling?”

“Anything.”

“Anything, huh?” Regina laughed again. Then she went quiet. Clearly considering the options. She went quiet for so long, Emma almost grew impatient with her, but then Regina started singing. Lowly and richly: “’past the point of no return, no backward glances, the games we’ve played till now are at an end.... Past all thoughts of ‘if’ or ‘when’.... No use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend! What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies... before us?’”

“You’re teasing me,” Emma complained as she tried not to shiver. Regina’s fingers in her hair combined with what she was singing, was doing interesting things to Emma. 

“I would never dream of it,” Regina assured. “Shall I sing something else instead? ‘Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re Fa Mi, Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do... Now you!’

“’ Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi,’” Emma sang lazily. “’Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do!’”

“Very good,” Regina praised and tugged teasingly at her hair. 

Soon they were singing together, and Emma thought to herself that she had no plan of leaving the lair the first hour or so. She was far too comfortable. And soon she would be separated from Regina for DAYS. She had to make the most of it.

To Be Continued.........


	50. There's Another Mask Behind You

The entire opera house was buzzing with activity. 

Because today was the day of the masquerade ball. 

Emma too was excited about it. Of course she was. Just not... as excited as she could have been. She so wished that Regina could have come tonight. To the ball. With her. That was Emma’s only wish. But she knew that it never could come true. She knew that Regina would not be able to go to the ball with her. It was too risky. And Emma just had to accept that. 

But that certainly shouldn’t prevent her from doing something she had decided on late last night when she finally left the lair last night. Showing Regina her costume. That was something she really wanted to do. And that was something she was going to do. Right now. 

She had just had lunch in the canteen with the others and now she could pretty much to what she wanted. There was no lessons today, obviously. Meaning that everyone were just pretty much hanging around doing nothing. And it also meant that no one would ask for her or wonder where she had disappeared of to. 

And of course there was only one place Emma was planning on going on this particular early afternoon. But first she had to put on her costume, of course. 

She quickly made sure that the door was locked. Then she went over to her dresser and found her costume for the masquerade party. The white dress with the feathery skirt and the angel wings. They were a bit silly, but she had a feeling that Regina would appreciate them. 

Emma unbuttoned her white dress and wiggled out of it. She shivered slightly as she stood there in only her bra and panties. It was cold today, and she feared that the costume wouldn’t provide with much cover for the cold. 

But she put it on anyway. Carefully wiggled inside the dress and then buttoned it. It still fitted her. Thank god. She smoothened a hand over the soft material and then walked over to the mirror to look at herself. 

Well. The dress certainly was more... lowcut than she had anticipated it to be. There was a whole lot of cleavage on display. Emma wasn’t used to showing that much of herself. But this was a masquerade ball after all. And she was wearing a costume after all. Today it was okay to show off a little. And she had a feeling that Regina would appreciate THAT as well. 

She smoothened a hand over the feathery skirt and did a little spin in front of the mirror. Then she composed herself and remembered that Regina potentially could be standing right behind the mirror.   
Emma didn’t want her to see her act this silly. She turned around and walked back to the bed. Found the angel wings and carefully slipped her arms through them so they were sitting on her back. There. 

Now she was a hundred percent ready to go. Ready to show Regina her costume. 

As usually, Emma was hurrying through the tunnel, but she was nevertheless being careful not to splash water onto her costume. That would be unfortunate. 

The road to the lair was a bit wet today. Not flooded like the time where Regina had to fetch Emma in the boat. Just a bit wet. Emma reluctantly slowed down. She really didn’t want to splash water onto her dress. But she also wasn’t too keen on slowing down. She just wanted to see Regina, damnit! She already missed her. Which seemed ridiculous because it had only been about twelve hours since she last saw Regina. 

But this was something that had happened quite recently. Emma was starting to miss Regina more and more. Had started to fantasize about slipping away to the lair more and more often. 

Emma was forced to slow down even more when a rat suddenly appeared right in front of her. It sniffed with its long nose, and Emma instantly backed up against the wall. Almost flattened herself and hoped that her pretty wings wouldn’t end up getting ruined. 

The rat kept sniffing about in the tunnel. Emma wasn’t afraid of it as such, but nevertheless, she kept her distance. She didn’t want the rat to bite her. That would only lead to trouble. She felt sorry for Regina who had to deal with these rats on a daily basis, and she wondered if the story Regina once had told her could actually be true. The story had been that a rat once had found its way into the lair.   
Regina claimed that she had made the animal go away by hissing at it. She had boasted a lot about scaring the rat so badly she had never seen it in the tunnel again, but now in hindsight, Emma wasn’t so sure whether it was true or not. Emma had been particularly tired that day, so it was possible that the story was one Regina had told with the sole purpose to cheer her up. 

Emma snickered a bit to herself. One day she would have to ask Regina if the story about the rat was true. She was curious of whether Regina would admit that it was not, or if she would continue to claim that it was true. 

The rat skittered down the tunnel in the opposite direction of the lair. Emma wondered where it was even going. But then she remembered that there were plenty of other ways to go down here. Regina had told her so, and Emma had often begged her to show her every one of them, but Regina had declined. She was ‘not to keen’ on having Emma roaming about in the tunnels. She had said that she feared that Emma would get the ways mixed up and end up somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. 

She hadn’t said so directly, but Emma knew that she meant the underground lake, and every time she thought about it, Emma was scared of the lake. But she also felt all warm because Regina worried about her.

Soon saw the lights from the lair. Emma sped up and forgot about worrying about her costume. She just couldn’t wait to see Regina!

“Regina, are you-“

“Oh, honestly, Emma!” Regina barked and interrupted Emma’s cheerful greeting. 

Emma stopped abruptly. Normally, she wasn’t a fan of when Regina snapped at her. But on this particular occasion, she completely understood why Regina had snapped at her. 

Because she had just walked in on Regina changing. Literally. When Emma came rushing in, unannounced and bubbling with excitement, Regina had been in the middle of pulling a dress up over her chest, and the shock of Emma’s sudden appearance had caused her to let go of the dress. With the result that her upper body was bared. Regina’s hair was working excellent as a cover and so was her arms which hastily had come up to cover herself, but there had still been a split second where there had been no cover, and within that short time span, Emma had definitely seen... things. Olive skin and....

“S-sorry,” Emma stuttered, cheeks reddening and knees buckling as she staggered backwards. “I-I’m really sorry about that!” 

A muscle worked in Regina’s jaw, muffling her voice slightly as she tightly said: “Could you at least turn around and give me the chance to put my clothes on, damnit?”

Emma immediately turned around and kept her gaze fixed on the wall. The heat was rapidly spreading to her neck and chest, and she tried to focus on Regina’s mood rather than what she had just seen.   
She really hoped that she hadn’t angered Regina now. She should of course have announced herself in some way rather than just storming in. But she hadn’t thought about that Regina could be in the middle of changing clothes... Emma bit her lip and desperately tried not to think of what she had just seen....

“For fucks sake,” Regina muttered, and Emma heard the sound of rustling. “Walked in by a seventeen year old... Jesus Christ!” 

“Sorry,” Emma said sheepishly once more. 

“Not half as sorry as I am,” Regina claimed, but she was sort of chuckling at the same time. “The last scrap of dignity I had left, and you just come and take it...”

“I didn’t see anything,” Emma lied. Normally, she didn’t lie to Regina, but this was an emergency.

Regina scoffed. “Lying doesn’t become of you, Little Swan.”

Emma blushed again and ducked her head. Of course Regina knew that she was lying. 

“On the contrary, you saw far too much,” Regina said darkly and there was more rustling. “But unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that now.”

“Sorry,” Emma said again. 

“Yes, yes, you’ve already said that,” Regina brushed her off. “You can turn around now. Or you can keep looking at the wall. I don’t care.”

Emma turned around and looked at Regina who was standing there with her arms folded across her chest. She had succeeded in pulling the bottle green velvet dress up to cover herself, and she was scowling slightly. But Emma was surprised to discover a faint tint of rosy in Regina’s cheeks. Emma had never seen Regina blushing before, and she instantaneously felt guilty for her blunder. She really should have announced herself rather than just storming in. 

“I’m really sorry,” she said solemnly. “I should have considered that you could be in the middle of changing.”

Regina chuckled and rolled her eyes, tapping a finger against the white half mask. “It’s quite alright, dear. I’m sure I will survive. I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose..” she tilted her head and gave Emma a look. “Or did you?” 

“No!” Emma spluttered. “I’d never! I would never come in here if I knew that you were-“ 

“Hush,” Regina interrupted and chuckled again. “That was a joke, dear.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

“Don’t you look lovely today,” Regina complimented, and her voice immediately went from joking to warm and genuine. “That is a beautiful costume.”

“You really think so?” Emma asked, now cheery once again. 

“Mmm, I really do.” There was only the faintest twinge of mockery in Regina’s voice. “Do a spin for me, dear.” 

Emma laughed as she spun around and tried to look as graceful as the ballet ensemble. She had a feeling that she was failing gruesomely. But it didn’t matter. The only one to see it was Regina, and Emma had a feeling that she would not care whether it was graceful or not. 

“Well, well,” Regina drawled. “You do look lovely, my darling. That costume is... very fitting.” Her voice trailed off and so did her eyes. Her gaze landed on Emma’s cleavage, and Emma licked her lips   
slightly. It felt like Regina’s gaze was burning a hole in her clothes. 

“I really wish that you could come later,” she murmured. 

“We already talked about that,” Regina replied. Voice soft but firm. 

“I know,” Emma said hastily. “That’s why I came here. To show you my costume.” 

“Well, I really appreciate that,” Regina chuckled and then lifted a long finger. She wagged it once. “Come here, dear.”

As pulled by a string or the finger urging her closer, Emma walked over to her. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even smile. Just stood on her tippy toes to be tall enough, and then she kissed Regina. 

Because their time together was limited for now, and Emma was gonna miss her so much when she went to that hotel with her parents. 

If only she could get out of that somehow. If only there was a way.

Warm hands cupped her cheeks, and Emma released a rather bold moan. She parted her lips slightly, allowing Regina’s tongue entrance, and as the kiss deepened, a million images flittered through her mind. Including the one of Regina with her dress half off.

All that olive skin on display. 

Emma wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it. Swirl her tongue over it and feel how soft it was. 

Regina’s chest on display. 

The faintest little glimpse, but still enough to make Emma feel that pull in her stomach. 

She wanted to kiss Regina’s breasts too. 

Feel them. 

They were like Regina’s voice. 

Soft yet firm. 

Then the kiss was broken abruptly, and Emma was left blinking and confused.

“What has gone into you today?” Regina asked, sounding somewhere between amusement and surprise. 

Emma started to connect the dots. The confusion disappeared the moment she realized what she was doing with her hands. They had wandered. To Regina’s breasts. Oh. 

“You’re in a good mood today,” Regina commented and raised her visible eyebrow. 

Emma blushed for the millionth time that day and quickly tried to move her hands away. 

But Regina wouldn’t let her. She placed her own hands over Emma’s and then flashed her a lazy smile. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of them now...” 

“I am NOT!” Emma hissed and cursed herself for blushing. “I’ve just never....” 

“Felt as much before?” Regina finished the sentence and flashed Emma another little smile. 

“Yes,” Emma admitted and felt stupid. She was seventeen and she had actually never... DONE anything. She had never even kissed anyone before Regina, and while she was thrilled that Regina had been   
her first kiss, some experience wouldn’t have been bad either. 

“Well, I don’t mind this,” Regina said calmly. “As long as you don’t take things too far. This is tolerable, but don’t start to... poking around. Keep your hands still.”

“Right,” Emma mumbled and looked down at their hands. Her palms were nearly burning, and keeping her hands still was a challenge. Her fingers were practically itching to go exploring... Just for a moment. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Regina teased. 

“Yes,” Emma willingly admitted. “This is very... nice.” 

“’Nice’,” Regina echoed and smiled a bit underneath the mask. “Not quite how I would have put it, but essentially, you’re right.” 

Emma grinned, feeling a little less awkward and adjusted her hands slightly. The action had Regina gasping, and Emma almost did the same when she felt Regina’s nipples harden under her touch. 

“What did I tell you about poking around?” Regina said softly. “Now look what you’ve done.”

Emma opened her mouth, but no apology came out. She wasn’t completely sure she even SHOULD be apologizing for this. 

“Here,” Regina said gently, fingers lifting Emma’s hands and guiding them down, so they were resting underneath her nipples rather than on them. “That’s better.”

“In what way?” Emma dared asking. Her fingers were itching to climb higher. 

Regina laughed again, and the movement made her chest vibrate slightly under Emma’s hands. “To maintain control,” she said. “This way I can keep a clear head, and you can get your curiosity satisfied. Win-win.” 

Emma chuckled. She WAS curious. Very curious. This was the most she had ever touched Regina, and she wasn’t completely sure how she was ever supposed to move her hands away...

“Can I make things a bit more even between us?” Regina asked lowly. 

Emma nodded immediately. Even if she didn’t completely understood what Regina meant, her answer would always be yes. 

Regina moved her hands away from Emma’s and gently cupped Emma’s breasts. 

That had Emma gasping and her fingers tightening slightly. 

“Careful,” Regina warned. “Don’t make me do things I can’t undo.”

“Maybe I want you to do things you can’t undo,” Emma muttered. 

Regina shook her head and clicked her tongue. “The magnificent irony is that you’re wearing angel wings, dear.” Then she scanned Emma’s face. “Is this okay? You must tell me if its too much. Just say the word and I’ll stop.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” Emma said immediately. Really, she wanted so much more than this. Like... Regina sticking her hand down her dress. Or up her dress. Either thing would work right now. Emma wasn’t even nervous about it. Whatever would happen, would be absolutely amazing, she already knew that. Kissing Regina was perfect. So why shouldn’t the next step be as perfect? 

Amused, Regina moved her hands away from Emma’s breasts. “Well, that was ‘nice’. Thank you for letting me get my curiosity satisfied.”

“A...anytime,” Emma squeaked. “If you ever wanna... get your curiosity satisfied again, then-“

“I’m sure you’ll be shockingly willing to let me,” Regina interrupted and glanced down at Emma’s hands still on her breasts. “You are supposed to move your hand away now, dear.” 

Emma only reluctantly did so. Her palms felt like they were burning. 

“Satisfied, dear?” Regina chuckled and smoothened her mask slightly. She had a habit of doing that whenever they had kissed each other. 

“Yes,” Emma said. Although she was not entirely satisfied. She would have liked to touch some more...

“You should get going, dear,” Regina drawled as she turned around and walked towards the piano. “I’m sure you have plenty of things to do.”

“Or I could stay here?” Emma suggested. “I wasn’t that interested in going to the masquerade anyway-“

“What nonsense,” Regina interrupted a tad sharply. “Of course you’re going to the masquerade. You didn’t buy that beautiful costume to never let it see the light of day.”

“I’d rather have you seeing it than anybody else.”

Regina sighed and shook her head, sending her dark curls tumbling. “I can’t figure out whether that was ridiculously romantic, or just ridiculous.”

Emma laughed. Sometimes Regina had a way with words. She could be extremely funny sometimes. Even if she was insulting her. 

“Off you pop, Little Swan,” Regina said firmly. “You’ve done your poking around, and I’m busy.” 

“What are you going to do?” Emma asked curiously and tilted her head. 

Regina smiled rather mysteriously. “I have some things I need to finish.”

“What things?” 

“None of your business. Now off you pop.”

“But I-“

Regina effectively silenced her with a kiss to her lips, and of course Emma forgot what she was going to say. But only momentarily. As soon as Regina pulled back, Emma’s curiosity was back in full force. 

“What things?” she asked. 

“None of your business,” Regina repeated and laughed. “Goodbye, dear.”

Emma pouted, but the conversation was over, and she had no choice but to leave the lair...

A couple of hours later, the masquerade ball started. 

There was music and laughter. And singing. Unavoidable in a house full of singers. 

The grand hallway with the large staircase was full of people. Many of them dancing on the staircase. And for once, none of the teachers had anything against it. 

Emma tried to participate in it as best as she could. The atmosphere was great. Everyone was laughing and dancing and having a great time. 

But the noise... Oh god, the noise. It was SO loud. 

She would much rather have stayed in the lair with Regina, but slipping away was out of the question. She was here with Belle and Ruby and Lily and Killian. Belle was wearing a poofy, yellow dress and a beast mask. Poking fun at her own name and twisting the story at the same time. Ruby was dressed as the beast, in black velvet trousers and royal blue waist coat with golden applications. They looked wonderful together. 

Lily had opted for a ‘black swan’ look with a black, feathery dress and dramatic black mask. 

Killian was dressed as a pirate. Emma wasn’t quite sure why, but it did work for him, she had to admit that. 

Emma shifted a bit and adjusted her mask. Honestly, she struggled with seeing the point of being here. It wasn’t like she was dancing or anything. She wasn’t a very good dancer in the first place. But if the right person had been here, she could have been convinced to dance. 

But the right person was not here. The right person was in her lair deep below the opera house, and right now it felt like Emma had left a piece of herself there when she left. She was aching to go back. 

But she knew that wouldn’t fly well with either of her friends. She had gotten away with disappearing earlier. Ruby was the only one who had noticed, and she had quirked an eyebrow when Emma returned with flushed skin and sparkling eyes. Emma shifted a bit again. Swayed goofily to the music as she took a sip from the plastic cup in her hands. The soda wasn’t actually that bad. Alcohol was not allowed, and even though not so few of the students had complained about that, Emma was grateful. She could easily imagine how much noisier the place would have become if there had been alcohol for the party. 

She snickered as Malena walked past her. She had chosen a costume that was rather similar to the white dress Emilia Clarke wore on Game of Thrones. Malena had even arranged her long golden hair in the same complicated braids, and because this was a masquerade party after all, she was also wearing a ‘scaly’ dragon mask. 

Lily had groaned and complained that her mom was ‘embarrassing’. 

But Emma had secretly thought to herself that Malena looked great in that costume. Mme. Carlotta was there too of course. She had chosen 1800 century clothes. A huge, poofy pink dress and a large, white wig like the ones the noblewomen wore once upon a time. She had powdered her face white and added a fake beauty mark to her cheek, and with her heavy, French accent, she was playing the part beautifully. 

Of course all the other teachers were dressed up too. Some of them had gone all out. Some of them were only half-heartedly dressed up. And one or two had just given up entirely. Mr. Gold being one of them. He was wearing an elegant gold mask over his eyes, but was not wearing a costume. He was just wearing his usual three-piece black suit. The only festive about him was the blood-red tie he had chosen over one of his usual black or grey ties. 

“I had expected him to dress up as Count Dracula, or something,” Ruby had joked earlier. “He could have nailed that role.”

Emma had laughed and shushed her friend, terrified that Mr. Gold could come clacking around the corner whenever. But silently, she had agreed with Ruby. Mr. Gold would have made an excellent Count Dracula. She wasn’t quite sure why, though. Perhaps it had to do with his hair. Or the way he spoke. 

Emma looked around in the large hall. The place had been wonderfully decorated with flowers and elegant torches. And the grand staircase looked as though it had been polished. It was strange, seeing so many people dance on it when not even running on it was allowed normally. 

But today was a special day. A very special day. In many ways. Malena had opened the ball with holding a speech for ‘the young lady who won ‘best costume’ three years ago and unfortunately is not with us tonight’. Meaning Christine Daaé, of course. This whole thing, the masquerade ball and the concert later was held in her honor after all. Malena had held a very heartfelt speech about Christine Daaé and the tragedy that had occurred. She had spoken of what a promising future Christine had ahead of her. She had spoken of her beautiful voice, quick wits, and friendly nature. A minute of silence had been held for her, and the hair in the back of Emma’s neck had been standing up when the entire opera house fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop. 

When the minute of silence was over, Malena had encouraged everyone to have a good time at the ball, and she had reminded them that Christine wouldn’t have wanted anyone to be sad. She would have wanted them to be happy. 

And happy was exactly what everyone was right now. Emma wasn’t sure that she ever had heard so many people laugh and exclaim at the same time. She saw Killian lift Lily up and spin her round and round so her skirt swished. Lily squealed in protest and banged on his shoulders to be sat down. But she was laughing at the same time. 

“Having fun?” 

Emma looked up and found Ruby standing right next to her. She hastily put on a smile. “Yeah, it’s a great party.” 

“Ha!” Ruby snorted. “Emma, sometimes you’re the worst liar EVER!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma claimed. 

“Sure you don’t,” Ruby snickered and nudged her. “You’re only standing here and hanging your head while looking like you’re having the worst party ever.” 

“I’m not having the worst party ever.”

Ignoring that, Ruby continued: “don’t you think she’d want you to have a good time? You know, smile a little and all that?”

Emma huffed. “Probably,” she admitted. “But I would just have loved if....” she did not finish the sentence. She didn’t have to. 

“I know,” Ruby said sympathetically and patted her shoulder. “I know. But don’t you think she would want you to at least TRY?” 

“Maybe....” Emma was still reluctant. 

“And besides, if you keep standing here and moping while everybody else is having the time of their lives, they’ll start to grow suspicious of you,” Ruby said cleverly. 

“I suppose that could happen. But what is your point, exactly?” 

“Go out there and d-a-n-c-e,” Ruby chuckled and gave her another nudge. 

Emma stuck out her bottom lip. “I don’t dance.” 

“You would have if our mutual friend could be here, wouldn’t you?” 

“I would. And keep your voice down!”

“Then you can dance without her too, can’t you?”

“Dance alone?” Emma raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. That would look ridiculous.” Everyone in the room were either dancing two and two or in little groups. She didn’t want to stick out like a sore   
thumb by dancing on her own.”

“Well.... Then dance with me?” Ruby suggested. 

Emma laughed softly at that. “It’s nice of you, but no thanks. Really, I don’t have to dance. I’m perfectly fine like this.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow. 

“I am,” Emma said firmly. “Dancing is not for me anyway, so...” she took a sip of her soda and observed the dancing crowd. She had to admit that it looked to be rather fun. But dancing without Regina?   
The thought alone left her with a stale taste in her mouth. It surely would be a flat experience. Oh, if only Regina could have been here to dance with her! They could have had so much fun together. Secretly, of course. But that was okay. Emma liked to have secret fun with Regina. She liked it a lot. 

Her stomach did a little flipflop when she thought of how they had touched each other in the lair earlier. Now THAT had been VERY fun! The most fun she’d ever had. And of course it inspired her to hope for more. More touching. Perhaps she could pluck up the courage to touch Regina boldly once more. Regina hadn’t seemed upset or angry about it. 

God, just thinking about it made her stomach go all bubbly. It had nothing to do with the sip of soda she had just taken.

“Hey, Em!” 

Emma blinked and quickly snapped out of it to focus on Lily who was standing right in front of her. Her hair which had been in an elegant updo when the masquerade started, was now slowly coming apart, and she had either dropped or thrown her mask away deliberately. 

“Hi,” Emma greeted and smiled at her friend. 

“What’s up?” Lily asked cheerfully as she attempted to fix her hair. She wasn’t doing a very good job. Several tendrils kept falling out and danced around her face. “Everything okay? You looked all mopey over here.” 

Ruby sniggered and masked the sound as a fake cough. Which rather sounded like ‘told you so!’.

“I am not moping,” Emma said quickly. “I’m just-“

“Acting as a wallflower?” Lily suggested and laughed. “That’s not right, Em. Not on a day like this. Come! Dance with me!” she held out her hands towards Emma. 

“Aren’t you dancing with Killian?” Emma asked and tilted her head slightly. 

“Oh, I can’t dance with him all the time,” Lily brushed her off. “And besides, he’s in the bathroom. Too much soda or whatever.” She laughed. “Come on. Everyone should at least be out there once.” She pointed to the ‘dance floor’. “Come on. One dance. Then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.” She grinned again. 

“I..” Emma wasn’t sure what to say. 

Lily did a phenomenal job at imitating a toddler on the verge of throwing a fit as she stuck out her bottom lip. “Come on, Em!” she pleaded. “Aren’t we best friends? Can’t you spare your best friend a single dance?” 

The teasing and her tragic expression made Emma laugh. “Alright, alright,” she surrendered. “One dance.” 

“I’ll take that,” Ruby interjected and snatched the plastic cup of soda out of Emma’s hand.

“Awesome!” Lily grinned as she took Emma’s hand. “It’s about time you get to shake those angel wings! They look great, by the way. Very stylish.”

“Thank you,” Emma said as she obediently followed Lily. These wings were growing on her. Not literally, of course, but she was starting to find them to be more stylish than silly. Perhaps she could in fact pull angel wings off.

Lily excitedly tugged her towards the dance floor, and honestly, her enthusiasm was rubbing off on Emma. She laughed. Couldn’t help it. 

And dancing with Lily wasn’t that bad. They were holding hands and twirling as best as they could. Emma was wearing her normal ballerina shoes that matched her costume nicely, but Lily had challenged   
fate by putting on a pair of very high heels. 

“Isn’t that pretty dangerous?” Emma asked through the loud music. 

Lily laughed and jokingly spun her around. “I’m used to it,” she assured. “And besides, I’m tiny when I’m not wearing heels.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Emma protested and told herself not to get dizzy.

“It is, though,” Lily grinned. “I have to wear heels to look impressive. Not like Ruby,” she nodded towards Ruby who was still standing in the corner with Emma’s cup of soda. “She is not wearing heels   
tonight, and she’s like....”

“Tall?” Emma suggested with a grin. 

“Exactly.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Emma nodded thoughtfully. Ruby actually WAS fairly tall. But then again, so was everybody compared to Emma. She wasn’t the tallest of people. And definitely not when she wasn’t wearing heels. 

Lily spun her around once more, and Emma half-squealed in protest. “Lily!”

“What?” Lily chuckled. “Come on, Em, if this is going to be your last dance, let’s make it a good one!” she twirled her around once more. “And I overheard what you said to Ruby. That you can’t dance.   
That’s crap.”

“Thanks, I suppose,” Emma, grinning again. Perhaps she was doing a fairly good job at moving to the music. The next time Lily spun her around, Emma willingly spun with her and she laughed heartedly when Lily caught her hands again. This WAS rather fun. She felt good. And she hadn’t lost a single feather from her skirt either. That was a good thing. 

“My mask is not falling down, is it?” she asked, having to raise her voice to be heard over the music. 

“Nah, you’re good,” Lily assured. 

“Cool. What happened to your mask, by the way?” Emma asked. She still had to almost yell to be heard. 

“Oh, I took it off for a moment, and then Killian nicked it,” Lily said with a shrug. “Just for fun, obviously, but then he dropped it and it was lost.”

“That’ll teach you not to take off your mask,” Emma teased. That was one of the unofficial rules of the masquerade- not taking off your mask. Well, of course you were ALLOWED to take it off, but there had been this bet going on between the choir members. Seeing how many would still be wearing their masks by the end of the night. 

“How’s it going with him, by the way?” Emma asked as they spun around once again. 

“He’s a really nice guy actually,” Lily said, putting her hands lightly on the tops of Emma’s shoulders. “Very easy to talk to, so who knows what’ll happen in the future,” she waggled an eyebrow at Emma. 

“I’ve always found him to be a pretty decent guy too,” Emma agreed. And that wasn’t a lie. Killian Jones wasn’t all that bad when he dialed down the funny comments. 

“What about you?” Lily asked. “Have you met anyone you fancy?”

“No,” Emma said quickly. The lie was burning on her tongue. “But I’m not really looking, so...”

“Gotcha,” Lily nodded and smiled. “But hey, that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t dance, does it? You gotta admit that this is pretty fun, right?” 

“It is,” Emma agreed with her friend. Perhaps dancing wasn’t all that bad after all. 

“If things go completely awry with Killian, I might have to dance with you for the rest of the night,” Lily joked as she snatched Emma’s hand and spun her around once more. “If only to make sure you’re   
not hanging out in the corner all night. And to see the way your skirt swooshes when you spin around. It looks epic!”

“Thanks,” Emma was almost giggling. “I really like your dress too.”

“Black swan, white swan,” Lily joked. “Proper twinsies-dresses. You’d think that we agreed on this beforehand.”

Emma laughed with her. She really liked this. Just her and Lily dancing together as best friends. This was how it was supposed to be. She was so relieved that Lily had gotten over her crush and was on the   
road to ‘something’ with Killian. He was the perfect match for her. He could give her all the things Emma couldn’t give her. Emma was taken. And very much so. Her stomach did another pleasant little   
flipflop. Now she and Lily weren’t spinning anymore. Instead they were just dancing an odd little dance while holding hands. They looked at each other and then bursted into fits of giggles. Emma had a feeling that they looked ridiculous. She was sweating underneath the thin, silvery mask she was wearing. The straps from the angel wings were digging into her arms, and the tight bodice was squeezing her ribs. 

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Because she was having fun. She was genuinely having a good time dancing. Now who would have thought that? What had happened to the quiet, introvert girl who preferred to stay in with a book? Emma could barely recognize herself. Of course she still loved reading, but over the past six months, she had definitely been in situations she wouldn’t even have dreamed of being in. She was not the timid little girl who left Storybrooke six months ago. Would her parents even be able to recognize her when she saw them again tonight?

One dance became two. And two dances became three. Killian still hadn’t come back, and when Lily joked that perhaps he got stuck in the toilet, Emma had become so goofy she laughed loudly. Perhaps it was the sugary soda that had gone straight to her head or something like that. 

“You are such an idiot!” she laughed at Lily. 

“Well, what do I know?” Lily half-yelled back. “Maybe he DID.”

“Shouldn’t you go looking for him then?” Emma suggested and lifted an eyebrow only to remind herself that Lily couldn’t see it because she was wearing a mask. Silly her. 

“I will,” Lily assured. “Once this dance is done.”

“Suit yourself,” Emma chuckled and glanced around in the large hall. Ruby and Belle were dancing again. Mme. Carlotta was dancing with Piangi. Emma couldn’t help but notice that the two teachers were   
dancing quite close, and she turned to Lily, leaned in and whispered: “ten bucks that there’s something going on between them.”

“Between whom?” Lily asked. 

“Mme. Carlotta and Piangi,” Emma whispered. “No, no! Don’t look now! But they’re dancing pretty close.”

Lily glanced discreetly at the two teachers and then snickered. “Well, I think you might be right, Em. Do you think she call him Ubaldo then?” 

“Lily!” Emma whisper-squealed. “Be quiet! She might hear you!”

“Oh, I don’t think she’ll hear anything,” Lily assured and winked. “She seems pretty preoccupied....”

That was true. Mme. Carlotta was only looking at Piangi and didn’t seem to notice anything else. 

“Well then,” Emma said with a light shrug. 

“They’re actually pretty cute together,” Lily giggled. 

“They are!” Emma agreed with her friend. Perhaps a bit of an odd couple, but if they liked each other, that was all that mattered. She knew that better than most people. 

“Do you think Mr. Gold is having a good time?” Lily asked and clearly suppressed another laugh. 

Emma looked over Lily’s shoulder and spotted Mr. Gold standing near the wall. He was talking to one of the teachers. And he looked stoic as ever. 

“He could be, and we would never be any the wiser,” Emma said. “I mean, he is pretty hard to read.”

“Mmm, and especially when wearing a mask,” Lily joked.

They laughed together again. Spun around again, and even though she was sure that her mask was sliding down, Emma laughed heartedly. It had been a good idea to dance with Lily. Now that the awkwardness between them was gone, Emma was sure that they truly would become the best of friends. Emma had had friends in Storybrooke too, but not close friends. Not someone she could be unabashedly silly with like she was being with Lily right now. 

She had found many things in Paris. Friendships. And of course something more too. 

And to imagine that she almost said no to coming to Paris. It seemed impossible now. Ridiculous.

God, the things she would have missed out on!

That was when her and Lily’s dance were interrupted by someone tapping Emma on the shoulder. 

Emma looked back and saw Ruby standing behind them. She was smiling but there was something in her eyes Emma couldn’t quite read. 

“Hey,” Ruby said. “Mind if I cut in for a moment?” 

“Sure,” Lily chuckled and mock-curtsied for Emma. “Thanks for the dance, Em. NOW I’ll go find Killian!”

“Good plan,” Emma grinned. “See you later.”

Lily took off, and when she was out of sight, Ruby grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her with her. Emma noticed that there were hardly any couples dancing in here anymore. Everybody seemed to disappeared outside through the open doors. Emma couldn’t blame them. It was a pretty toasty evening, and even this big room was boiling hot because so many people had been piling up in here.

“Hey, wait up!” Emma half-laughed as she stumbled after Ruby. “Where are we going?” 

Ruby didn’t stop before they reached an uncopied corner. There she looked left and right to ensure that no one was paying attention. Then she looked seriously at Emma. 

“What is it?” Emma asked, slightly winded after all that dancing and the fast pace she had been walking in to keep up with Ruby. 

“There’s someone here to see you,” Ruby hissed quietly. “Or maybe she already left. I dunno. She wasn’t happy.” 

Of course Emma wasn’t so stupid that she had to ask who this ‘someone’ was. “R-Regina’s here?” she whispered.

“Yes. At least she was a second ago. I think she went that way-“ Ruby pointed to the solid door behind her that lead into the smaller stage room next to the staircase. “And she was PISSED.” 

“What? Why?” Emma blinked. Why would Regina be pissed? 

“I dunno. She didn’t say anything. Just took off as quick as she got here. Has she lost her mind, by the way? Coming here when the place is crawling with people?” 

“I should go talk to her,” Emma whispered. 

“Yeah, you should,” Ruby agreed and patted her shoulder. “Be careful. See you later.” And with that she turned around and walked towards the staircase.

Emma turned around too and ripped the door open as fast as she possibly could with feet that ached slightly from all that dancing. Was Regina really here? Could that really be? God, that was everything   
Emma had ever wanted! 

But if she really was here, why had she taken off without saying anything? That didn’t make any sense.

Emma nearly stumbled through the door and almost fell over the threshold. When she regained balance, she discovered that Ruby was right. Regina WAS indeed here. 

And she looked stunning. 

She was wearing the red strapless dress Emma had seen on the mannequin a little while ago. But it had been spruced up with some golden threads along the bustline, and she had also added a slit up her right leg and golden applications down the front of her dress. She had also made a red cloak with golden threads along the seam. The cloak was so long it dragged behind her. Her long hair had been rolled into a bun, and on her head she was wearing a luxurious red hat with the same golden threads. Her face was covered in a full black mask that left only her eyes and mouth visible, and although the mask could have seemed scary, Emma wasn’t at all scared. She was only happy to see Regina. 

“You’re here!” she beamed. 

“Yes. I am,” Regina said tightly. “I thought I would surprise you, but it seems like the surprise is on me. I will be leaving again.”

“What?” Emma blinked in confusion. “But you’ve just got here, why would you leave again?” 

“You don’t need me here. Goodbye.” And with that Regina quickly walked towards the door in the other end of the room. 

“What?” Emma was thoroughly confused now. “What are you talking about?” she asked as she jogged to keep up with Regina. 

“Never mind. Just go back to the ball.”

“No!” Emma said and wedged herself between the door and Regina, effectively preventing her from leaving. 

Regina sighed. “Stand aside, Swan.” 

“No.” 

Another sigh. “Emma. Move. Before I move you myself!”

The thread did not make an impact at all. Emma folded her arms across her chest and looked directly at the angry Phantom. “No!” she said firmly. “Not until you tell me why you’re mad at me!”

“I am not mad. Now MOVE.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Emma said and tried not to sound standoffish. That probably wouldn’t help the matter. “I might not be able to see your face, but I can tell that you’re lying. So can’t you please just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it and we can spend time together?” 

Regina scoffed. “Are you sure you have time for that, dear?” 

“What do you mean? Of course I have time for that!”

“Right,” Regina said dryly. “Then are you sure that is what you WANT to do?” 

“Yes!” Emma said and grew more and more exasperated by the second. “Of course it is! You know that! Why would you even SAY that?!”

Regina scoffed again and copied Emma’s motion as she folded her arms across her chest. The effect was far better. “You looked plenty busy to me. Dear.” 

“Busy WHEN?!” Emma whisper-yelled. She had to remind herself that there were people not too far away. “I don’t even know what you’re talk-“

“When you danced with that girl,” Regina spat. 

“What gir.... LILY?” Emma’s eyes widened as things started to dawn on her. 

“Yes. LILY,” Regina said, almost spitting Lily’s name. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back to dancing with her instead? The two of you looked awfully.... Cozy.” She turned around abruptly and stood   
stock still in the middle of the room. 

Emma’s head was spinning as she began to realize exactly what this was about. Of course she would never mock Regina, but this just seemed so ridiculous. It seemed ridiculous that Regina could even THINK that- no, Emma couldn’t even finish the thought. Instead she quickly walked around Regina. 

Regina refused to meet her eyes. She just stood there with her arms folded across her chest and eyes that stared at nothing. 

“Are you...” Emma cleared her throat and licked her lips, still not sure about how to approach this. 

Regina didn’t react at all. She didn’t even move. 

“Are you.... JEALOUS?” Emma asked dumbfounded. The word sounded ridiculous in her mouth. The question was ridiculous. She more than expected Regina to scoff and call her an idiot in a moment. 

Regina did scoff. But she didn’t call Emma an idiot. “What do you think?” she snapped. “Of course I’m jealous.” 

Emma opened her mouth but absolutely no words came out. She just stood and stared at Regina while her mind was screaming that now was the time to assure Regina that she had absolutely no reason whatsoever to be jealous. But Emma couldn’t get the words out. She was far too stunned. Too utterly dumbfounded. Regina? Jealous? Of Lily? It shouldn’t even be possible! How could someone like Regina get jealous? And HOW could she be scared of loosing Emma to Lily? Surely, Regina had to know that there was only one for Emma. And it was definitely not Lily. 

“That’s not...” she squeaked, finally gaining control over her voice. “You have no reason to be jealous-“ the word was still weird in her mouth. “We were just dancing. As friends. We were just being silly, that’s all!” 

But the reassurance did nothing to sway Regina. Her arms remained tightly folded across her chest, and her eyes were still staring at nothing. “It’s about more than just a DANCE,” she said tightly. “It’s about what that dance reminded me of.”

“I don’t understand,” Emma said and felt tempted to throw her hands in the air. 

“It is easy to forget when we are together in the lair,” Regina said stiffly and shifted slightly. “But up here it becomes abundantly clear again. How different you and I are. Whom you should be surrounding yourself with rather than coming to me.” 

“Don’t talk like that!” 

“That girl in there,” Regina continued, ignoring Emma’s half-whispered outburst. “She’s exactly the type of girl you should be with. I saw how much fun you had with her.”

“I had fun because she’s my FRIEND! Just that!”

Regina ignored that too. “Don’t you get it? It was so easy for you to have fun with her. So easy for you to dance with her. No judgement. No raised eyebrows. No one to tell either of you that what you’re doing is wrong.” 

“You think I care about that?” Emma hissed. “I don’t! I don’t care how ‘easy’ it would be to be with Lily! I don’t WANT to be with Lily! I want to be with you! You KNOW that!” 

“Why?” Regina asked simply. 

“Why WHAT? You’re confusing me!” 

“Then let me make it easy for you. Why do you want to be with me? I literally cannot give you anything. Nothing! I can’t go in there with you! I can’t hold your hand in public. I can’t dance with you like SHE can. I can’t even be SEEN with you! All we have is a few stolen hours in a dimly lair!”

“And that has always been enough for me!” Emma hissed and curled her hands into fists. “Always! That is the thing I look forward to every single morning when I wake up! I always hope that the day will go quickly so I can go see you! It’s the highlight of my day!” she swallowed thickly. “But maybe you feel differently?” 

“Don’t be absurd. You know I don’t.” 

“Then you should know how I feel too!” Emma said sincerely. “You should know that it isn’t fair of you to second guess me like that! You’re all I think about! The only one I want! Always! I lov-“

“Don’t,” Regina interrupted. “Just... don’t.”

“Why not?!” Emma challenged. The confession was practically burning on her tongue. 

“Because those are important words, and they should not be wasted-“

“They’re not wasted on you!”

“-In an argument,” Regina calmly continued as though Emma hadn’t protested. “Choose the right moment to say them instead.”

Oh. Regina wasn’t rejecting her. She simply wanted Emma to wait for the right moment. That made sense. Emma flashed her a hopeful smile. “I want to be with you,” she said softly. “I hope you know that.” 

Regina’s tough façade cracked, and her body loosened up. Her arms dropped to the side and she sighed. “I want to be with you, too. I am sorry for acting like this. Will you forgive me?” she slowly extended a glove clad hand out towards Emma.

Emma ignored the offered hand. But she didn’t turn Regina away. Of course not. Instead she more or less catapulted herself towards Regina, nearly knocking them both over. She wrapped her arms tightly around Regina’s midriff and murmured: “I’m so glad you came tonight.” 

“Even if I’m acting horribly?” Regina said dryly as her arms gently wrapped around Emma. 

“You’re not.”

Regina scoffed. 

Emma ignored that. “Maybe being together is difficult right now, but it wont stay like that. When I leave the opera house, you’re coming with me. We can find some other place to live. Together.” 

“Are you gonna be the knight in shining armor who saves me, my darling?” Regina joked.

“I could be that,” Emma murmured. She was almost nuzzling her nose against Regina’s chest, and it reminded her a little too much of earlier, so she quickly lifted her head before she ended up getting flustered. “You look amazing,” she told Regina. “I haven’t seen that mask before.” All the sudden, the black mask Regina was wearing reminded her of a female Zorro, and Emma blushed even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t.

“No, I only wear it for special occasions,” Regina quipped before gently cupping Emma’s face in her glove clad hands. “You too look stunning, my beauty. The mask is becoming of you.”

Emma laughed a bit. “It does feel a little warm,” she admitted. 

“You get used to it.”

Emma cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.” 

“Do not worry about it,” Regina gently brushed her off while her long fingers carefully examined the thin silver mask covering Emma’s eyes and nose. “It looks like you’ve tied it a bit too tightly. You’ll end up getting marks on your face.” As she spoke, she let her fingers wander to the back of Emma’s head where two strings held the mask together. 

Emma took a little breath of relief when she felt the mask loosening. 

“There,” Regina said softly as she gently peeled the mask away from Emma’s face. She held the thin silver mask in one hand and used the other to gently take Emma’s chin. “There’s that face I have to see every single day in order to not go mad.” 

Emma smiled up at her. “I want to be with you,” she said simply. 

“I want to be with you too,” Regina replied. “And I wish I could go in there and dance with you right now.” 

Emma considered it for a moment. Then she smiled beamingly at Regina. “We don’t have to be in there in order to dance. We can do it right here.”

Regina tilted her head, and Emma was sure she was raising an eyebrow under the mask. 

“We can hear the music through the door, can we not?” Emma eagerly continued.

“Yes, I suppose we can,” Regina agreed and bowed her head slightly.

“Then....” Emma took a step backwards and held out her hands. “Regina, will you dance with me at the masquerade ball?” 

“I will,” Regina said softly as she took Emma’s hands in hers and gently spun her around. 

Emma felt her heart swell in her chest. They could hear the music quite clearly through the door, and although this was not a ballroom, nor were they in public, but this was perfect, nonetheless. And so completely different from the way she had danced with Lily earlier. They had just danced. Where as she and Regina were DANCING. And Regina was a wonderful dancer who clearly knew what she was   
doing as she twirled Emma around and then caught her perfectly in her arms. Held her hand and put her other hand on the small of Emma’s back as both of them gracefully spun around. Emma did her   
best to keep up and gasped slightly when Regina suddenly dipped her and then just as elegantly guided her up again.

“Where... Where did you learn to do this?” she asked slightly breathlessly. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know that,” Regina teased. “I’m the Phantom of the Opera, remember? I’m allowed to keep some secrets still, aren’t I?”

“Well, I really think you should tell-“ Emma interrupted herself and squealed in surprise and delight when Regina suddenly lifted her up in her arms and twirled her around once more. 

“You were saying?” Regina teased and didn’t seem like she was planning on setting Emma down anytime soon. 

Emma didn’t wish to be sat down either. She merely made herself comfortable in Regina’s arms. “You’re very good at dancing!”

“And you look like an angel, my dear,” Regina said softly. “An angel of music.” 

“No, that’s you,” Emma half-protested and laughed. 

Regina merely shook her head as she sat Emma on her feet and took her hands again. “This is a waltz. In case you were wondering.” 

“A waltz,” Emma echoed. “I have never danced a waltz before. I’m not sure I’m any good at it.” 

“So far you’re doing a splendid job, Little Songbird. And if you feel in doubt, I will be more than happy to act as your dance teacher. I have already taught you everything there is to know about singing.”

“Not everything,” Emma protested as they slowly spun around once. “This is nice.”

It was. It was wonderful. Until they were interrupted by a sound. 

A sharp gasp. 

An outcry. 

Then a loud thump. 

Emma’s head whipped around towards the door. “What on earth was that?” 

“I don’t know,” Regina said. She looked as puzzled as Emma felt. 

“I better go see what that was,” Emma whispered. “Stay here.”

“But of course,” Regina said and stepped back in the shadows she had been hiding in a moment ago. 

Emma opened the door with some trouble and slipped through it. The large hall was now quite deserted, but she could hear laughter from outside. And music. The entire party and orchestra had clearly moved outside while Emma and Regina had been in the little room. 

But something had made that sound. Someone had cried out and then there had been a thump. Emma was sure of that. But who was it? And where were they? Maybe it had just been an excited party noise   
from outside. Or maybe someone had spilled their soda and then cried out because of it? That wasn’t entirely impossible. 

Still, Emma took a quick walk in the large hall. “Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?” 

There was no answer.

But for whatever reason, Emma still wasn’t entirely convinced. She frowned in confusion at the strangeness of it all, and completely randomly, her gaze roamed over the staircase. From top to bottom. And then she realized that there was something lying at the bottom of the stairs. Something that at first glance appeared to be a mess of royal blue. A waistcoat.

But as she approached, she could see that it was not just a forgotten waistcoat. It was a person. With their arms and legs sprawled out. Someone who had long brown hair with red streaks in it. 

It was Emma’s turn to cry out when the horrific truth dawned upon her and ice cold fear settled in her stomach. 

Ruby!

To Be Continued.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely reader came up with the suggestion that Regina should see Emma and Lily together and get jealous, and I took the idea and ran away with it :P so lovely reader, thank you for your input! :D


	51. Twisted Every Way/Before The Performance

“Little Swan? I heard you yell. Is everything alright?” 

Despite the serious situation and the horrifying discovery she had just made, Emma instantaneously felt relieved when she heard Regina’s voice call out to her. 

“It’s Ruby!” she whisper-yelled and quelled a wave of nausea. There was a small trickle of blood where Ruby was laying, but Emma couldn’t see where it came from. “She’s fallen down the stairs!” she crouched down in front of Ruby just as she heard Regina’s footsteps behind her. “Ruby?” she called softly, trying to stay calm. “Ruby!” she reached out to touch Ruby’s shoulder. “Ruby!”

A soft, warm hand landed on her own, and when Emma turned her head, Regina was sitting crouched down right next to her. “Don’t touch her, Little Swan,” the Phantom warned. “She might have broken bones. Be careful.” She put two fingers on Ruby’s exposed wrist. Frowned for a second, but then her forehead smoothened out once more. “She has a pulse, Little Swan.” 

“Oh, thank god! But why can’t I wake her?”

“I think she may have hit her head,” Regina answered as she looked at Ruby.

Emma had to quell another wave of nausea when she realized that the trickle of blood was coming from Ruby’s head. “Oh god!”

Regina made a noise as she glanced up at the staircase Ruby had just fallen from. “She needs help immediately. Go outside and find one of the teachers. Tell them that miss Lucas is hurt and needs help. Hurry.”

“What about you? You can’t be here. They’ll see!” Emma said quickly.

“I will stay here with miss Lucas until you get back, and then I’ll be gone. Don’t worry. Now go!”

Emma scrambled to her feet and ran towards the half open double doors. She could hear the little orchestra playing outside and people laughing and having a great time. Completely unaware of what had happened inside. 

All laughter completely seized, however, when Emma came bursting outside, breathing heavily and with wild eyes. 

“Mademoiselle Swan!” Mme. Carlotta exclaimed, clearly startled. “What on earth is going on?!”

“It’s Ruby, she needs help!” Emma yelped and tried to catch her breath. “She’s fallen down the stairs! She’s unconscious and bleeding! Please help her!”

Gasps of shock followed her statement. Amongst the large group outside, Emma several of her fellow choir-members look at her in shock. 

Mme. Carlotta said nothing. She simply gathered her skirts with one hand and then rushed inside. In the doorway, she turned around and held up a hand. “Everyone stay back! Est-ce clair? Nobody comes inside until I say so!” then she continued towards the stairs. 

Emma followed her. Because she didn’t care. She was the one who had found Ruby. And she had to make sure that Regina was gone. 

Regina was. There was no sign of her by the staircase. There was only Ruby, still unconscious, and very pale. 

Mme. Carlotta crouched down in her poofy dress to get a closer look at Ruby. 

“She has a pulse,” Emma said quickly and lied: “I checked it.” 

“Good thinking, mademoiselle Swan. Did you see what happened?” 

“No, I... I was just taking a moment to myself in there-“ Emma nodded towards the room she had just been with Regina in. “I heard a gasp and a scream and a thud, and when I went to see what it was, I found her like this.”

The last sentence drowned when somebody else screamed.

Emma looked up and saw Belle standing at the top of the staircase. “Ruby!” she yelled. “Oh my god!” she started running down the stairs so fast she nearly toppled over too.

“Stay back mademoiselle French!” Mme. Carlotta warned. “Do not touch her!”

A door was slammed open somewhere above them, and a second later, Malena appeared at the top of the stairs. “What on earth is all that commotion?” she demanded. “Why is everyone shouting?!”

“There has been an accident!” Mme. Carlotta shouted. “We need an ambulance for mademoiselle Lucas! Immédiatement!”

Instead of wasting anymore time with talking, Malena turned around and hurried back the way she came. Emma guessed that she had gone to call an ambulance.

“How could this have happened?!” Belle sobbed hysterically. “I don’t understand!” 

“She’ll be okay, it’s going to be okay,” Emma automatically promised as she patted Belle’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. 

“How could she have f-fallen down the s-stairs?” Belle hiccupped and leaned heavily into Emma. “I was only gone for t-two seconds!”

Before Emma could say anything, Malena appeared at the top of the stairs again. “The ambulance is on its way!” she half-shouted. “Is she still unconscious?”

“Oui!”

“Is she bleeding?”

“Oui! From the head!”

“That has to be stopped!” 

Before Mme. Carlotta could do anything, Emma had ripped a piece of her costume off and was handing it to her. “Here! Use this!”

“Merci,” Mme. Carlotta lightly held the piece of fabric against the wound in Ruby’s head. 

Malena came rushing down the stairs, and even before she had fully come downstairs, another door was slammed open and Señor Piangi came trailing after her. His normally so cheerful face was pulled tight in a serious expression. No doubt he had heard what happened. He and Malena came downstairs and rallied around Ruby. A human wall. 

“Miss French, you shouldn’t be in here,” Señor Piangi said gently to Belle. 

“I am not going anywhere!” Belle hissed. “I am staying with Ruby!” 

That wasn’t argued against. Everyone present in the grand hall kept a close eye on the double doors. Emma could hear the other students murmur worriedly outside. No doubt everyone was confused as to what was going on. 

Then another door was opened. Emma looked up towards the staircase again. This time it was Mr. Gold who was coming down the stairs. He was grabbing on to his cane with one hand and the railing with the other. Watching him hobble down the stairs made Emma nervous. She was tempted to run up there and offer to help him. “Ah, Mr. Gold,” Malena said. “I’m afraid there has been an accident. Miss Lucas has fallen down the stairs. 

“We’re waiting for an ambulance,” Mme. Carlotta added. 

“My god,” Mr. Gold said, gripping the handle of his cane tightly. He paled visibly as he looked at the unconscious Ruby on the floor. “That is terrible! How on earth did this happen?!”

“We don’t know,” Malena said. She too had gone worriedly pale. “None of us saw it happen. Miss Swan heard the accident, but that is not quite the same as seeing it.” 

“Mum? What’s going on?” 

Emma looked back at the staircase again. She hadn’t realized that Lily had been upstairs too. But there she was, standing at the top of the staircase with wide eyes as she looked at the group of adults all railing around the unconscious Ruby. 

“Lily, go outside and tell the others that they need to make room for the ambulance.”

“The ambulance? What’s going o-“

“Lilith! Now!”

Lily didn’t press the matter. Just hurried down the stairs, past the unconscious Ruby and out of the double doors. Emma heard her yell to the others about making way for the ambulance, and the following shocked gasps from the others. 

Emma knew that she should go outside too. But she wasn’t capable of going anywhere. She couldn’t move. The shock over finding Ruby like that sat in her like a large block of ice that refused to melt. Was she going into shock? Was she trembling? She couldn’t quite feel it. She couldn’t quite feel anything, really. She was so worried about Ruby who was still lying unconscious on the floor while Mme. Carlotta was holding the fabric from Emma’s dress against the wound in her head. 

Then sirens wailing right outside. More gasps and muttering. The double doors slammed open, and two ambulance drivers carrying a spine board between them and two paramedics came rushing inside.   
All four of them knelt down next to the unconscious Ruby, and Emma heard phrases such as ‘head trauma’, ‘fraction of the skull’ ‘eternal bleeding’ and ‘spine injury’ being thrown around. Her blood ran cold, and she felt like some sort of robot as she wrapped an arm around the hysterical Belle. 

Ruby was given oxygen via a nasal cannula. Her neck was secured with one of those tight collars, and then the two ambulance drivers carefully lifted her up on the spine board. 

“I’m going with her!” Belle said. It wasn’t a suggestion. 

“Hurry,” one of the ambulance drivers said. “We’ll be leaving right now!”

Belle gave Emma’s hand a squeeze and reassured her that she would be in touch as soon as she knew more. Then she rushed after the two ambulance drivers and the paramedics in her ballgown. 

Emma too would have liked to go with Ruby to the hospital, but the ambulance seemed pretty crammed already, and of course Belle was the one who should be going with Ruby. Not Emma. 

Mr. Gold and the teachers followed the ambulance drivers and the paramedics outside to send the ambulance off. And most likely to inform the other students of what was going on. None of them noticed that Emma wasn’t following them. And she still had trouble moving. She just stood there and stared at nothing in particular. But then the double door slammed shut, and she was finally able to move again. She didn’t want to go outside. Didn’t want to witness the look of horror on the other’s faces. 

She ended up sitting down on the floor with every intention of putting her head between her knees because she felt dizzy. But before she could, she spotted something laying on the floor quite closely to where she had found Ruby. Something that glimmered very faintly in the dwindling light. Emma shuffled forward on her knees and took it between her fingers. It was circular and made of gold. At first glance, Emma assumed that it was a button, but it didn’t take her long to realize that this round thing was too big to be a regular button. It was more like a knob or something. It had to be some kind of application that had come off of Ruby’s costume when she fell. Maybe it had been a big fake-button or something. Emma decided that she would hang onto it. Then she could give it to Ruby when she felt better. 

IF she felt better. Oh god! Ruby HAD to get better! She just had to! There was no other option. Ruby couldn’t be...

No. Emma refused to accept that. Of course Ruby would be just fine. She would. She would! 

She closed her fingers around the big button/knob. Weighted it in her hand as she glanced around in the large room. She wished that Regina had still been here. She could have used a bit of her calmness right now.

Emma bit her lip harshly and could taste blood. Her stomach rolled. Finding Ruby like that had been awful. And what about poor Belle? She had to be so worried. Maybe Emma should have offered to go with her anyway.

The double doors opened again, and Mme. Carlotta came inside closely followed by Mr. Gold, Piangi and all the dressed up pupils. Now there was nothing festive about it. Each and every one looked shocked and scared. Malena was not there. Emma guessed that she had accompanied Ruby and Belle to the hospital. 

“Everyone please return to your rooms,” Mme. Carlotta said seriously. “While the rest of the teachers and myself discuss the situation. Change out of your costumes and into the attire you are wearing for the concert.”

Oh god. The concert. Emma had completely forgotten about that. Her head started spinning again. Why should they put on their concert attire? The concert couldn’t happen NOW. It couldn’t. Not without Ruby. She was the star. The lead soprano. The one that everyone came to see. She was what held the whole thing together. The concert literally could not happen without her. 

“Back to your rooms,” Mme. Carlotta said strictly. “Now!”

Emma mutely followed the rest of the students upstairs. Lily was beside her now. Gripping her arm. Squeezing it. “Mum said that you heard it,” she whispered. “What happened?!”

“I don’t know,” Emma mumbled and squeezed the golden knob that had fallen off Ruby’s costume. “I just heard her cry out and then I found her like that. All... s-sprawled out.” Her voice failed her. 

“And thank god for that,” Lily said, squeezing her arm again. “Thank god you found her so quickly! If she had lied there for longer...”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Emma could vividly imagine how horrible it would be if Ruby had lied there bleeding from her head for a longer period of time. 

She hadn’t been laying on the floor for long. That had to mean something. It had to mean that Ruby had a chance of getting through this. She HAD to! 

“I didn’t hear anything at all,” Lily whispered. “I needed a little break, so I had gone upstairs for five seconds to unwind... And this was happening literally right outside the door!”

Emma didn’t say anything. She didn’t know how to respond to it. She was still completely shocked. 

Coming upstairs, Emma and Lily parted ways. 

Emma went inside her room and put the golden knob down on her nightstand. That way she would remember to give it back to Ruby WHEN she came back from the hospital. Then she went over to her little dresser and found the white chorus dress she was supposed to wear for the concert. It was a little different from the ‘rehearsal’ dress seeing that this one had a few more applications on the sleeves and hem of the skirt. She mechanically changed out of her costume and into the chorus dress instead. It seemed like such a ridiculous thing to do, though. What was even the point of changing into this gown? What was the point of acting as though the concert would proceed without any problems when Ruby was in the hospital?

Without Ruby, there wouldn’t be any concert. She was the one who carried the whole thing on her shoulders. Sure, the chorus could sing the songs and the orchestra accompany them, and with the ballet ensemble, the chorus could turn out half-decent, but it wouldn’t be the same. They weren’t the main attraction. Ruby was. The star. The cherry on top. 

Emma sighed as the tied the strings into a ribbon in the back. She was so worried about Ruby, her stomach cramped. But she was also selfishly disappointed for her own sake. This was supposed to be her first concert as part of the chorus ensemble, and now it wasn’t gonna happen. 

She found her hairbrush and slowly brushed out her hair. She was supposed to tie it into an updo for the concert. All the girls in the choir was. That seemed pointless too. But Mme. Carlotta had said that they were supposed to get ready for the concert, and now was not the time to go against one of the teachers. So Emma carefully twisted her long blonde hair into the requested updo. Once the hair was rolled into a bun at her nape with a few curls bouncing near her cheeks, Emma went into the bathroom and checked her makeup in the better lightening. Her eye makeup had gone a bit south because of the mask, and Emma quickly refreshed it. Then she applied a bit of color to her pale cheeks. Changed her contact lenses which had bothered her earlier. She wasn’t very adapted to wearing contact lenses, but she didn’t want to wear glasses on stage. God. It was ridiculous to act like she would actually be going on stage. It was ridiculous to act like any of them would be going on stage. A concert without Ruby? Crazy. It was her name on the glittery posters that had been put up outside and online months ago. She was the reason why every ticket had been ripped away. 

They would have to cancel. Another impossible thought. But there was no alternative. Ruby was the star. Elsa had been the understudy. But Elsa wasn’t here any longer. She was at a different opera house, and she couldn’t just be leant out to them when she wasn’t a part of the ensemble anymore. 

Emma came back from the bathroom and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed. All the parents that were coming from every corner of the world. Excited to see their children on stage. The other audience who had bought their tickets months in advantage. Her stomach twisted as she thought of the reality the entire opera house was facing right now. Cancellation. The most feared word among the teachers. Over five hundred tickets having to be refunded. The first concert since Christine’s death, and they had to cancel it. The though alone was horrifying. And now it was reality. What would that mean for the opera house? Did they even have enough capital to refund all those tickets? And what about the future? What if tonight’s cancellation meant disappointed audiences and complains and bad reviews? 

Emma knew that Ruby was the one who suffered the most right now. She knew that Ruby should be the main concern. But she also knew that the theater industry was tough. Although it was terrible that Ruby had been injured, she knew that all the teachers in this moment was thinking of what to do next. Because they had to. Showbusiness was ruthless. 

Emma fiddled with the little locks bouncing around her face and contemplated whether or not to call her parents and inform them of what had happened. Although the cancellation was not yet official,   
Emma knew that it would be soon enough. And it would be better to inform her parents before they arrived here. 

She stood from the bed and felt like she had aged forty years when she went over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. She found her cellphone and dialed her mother’s number. Brought the phone up to her ear and waited while her stomach tied in knots. Her parents would be so disappointed. And so was Emma. She had been looking forward to this for months. Her first concert in the Parisian opera house. 

But of course it was worse for Ruby. Absolutely.

There was no answer. Only her mom’s sweet greeting on the voice mail: ‘you have reached my voicemail. I’m afraid I can’t answer right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a wonderful day!’

Emma did not leave a message. Telling her parents that the concert was cancelled was not something she could do via voicemail. It would only confuse her parents. So they would have to arrive and be disappointed like the other parents. 

Emma swallowed something. Felt terrible for her parents. Felt terrible for Ruby. And admittedly, for herself even though it was bad to think of her own disappointment when Ruby was so badly injured. 

She sat down on the edge of her bed again. Glanced towards the mirror again. Wished that Regina had been here so they could talk through it all. Emma could use that. She also felt so tempted to slip through the mirror and venture into the lair. But disappearing right now seemed like a bad idea. A very bad idea. 

She did not go back downstairs. Didn’t want to be confronted with the teachers serious faces or the students horrified expressions. She preferred staying in her room. In here she was able to remain calm. 

And that was exactly what she needed right now. Calm. 

Emma shifted on the bed. Tried to concentrate on the words written in the book she had in her lap. The Hound of Baskerville by Arthur Conan Doyle. One of her many comfort reads. Or at least it normally was. On this particular afternoon, it was mighty hard to concentrate on the book. So she went back to that old method she had tried a long time ago. Read aloud. “’Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he stayed up all night, was seated at the breakfast table,’” Emma read. “’I stood upon he hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a “Penang lawyer.” Just under the head was a broad silver band, nearly an inch across. “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,” was engraved upon it, with the date “1884.” It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry—dignified, solid, and reassuring.’”

Scratch-scratch-scratch.

Emma looked up from the book and glanced towards the mirror. “Is that you?” she asked quietly. Just to check. Although it was silly. Who else would it be?

Scratch-scratch-scratch. 

That meant yes. Emma knew that. She knew how Regina typically communicated when she was ‘hiding’ behind the mirror. “Would you like to come in?” she hopefully.

Scratch-scratch.

Emma’s stomach dropped a little. She also knew what that meant. No. Unfortunately. That disappointed her, but she could understand why Regina rejected the offer today. With everything that was going on, it was too risky. And she had already taken one risk today. One very big risk. “Ooookay,” she said a bit reluctantly. “Will you stay there for a little while?”

Scratch-scratch-scratch. 

Emma smiled. Regina was going to stay. That was more than enough. And it also didn’t matter that Regina didn’t say a word. When she was hiding behind the mirror, she typically only communicated via scratches to draw less attention to herself. She probably knew that everyone was in their rooms at the moment.

“Thanks,” Emma said lowly. “Would you like me to keep reading?” 

Scratch-scratch-scratch. 

A small chuckle. “Okay then,” Emma said briskly and looked down at the book again. “’Well, Watson, what do you make of it?’” she read, knowing that Regina was listening. She always did whenever Emma   
was reading. “’ Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I had given him no sign of my occupation. “How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in the back of your head.” “I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me,” said he. “But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor’s stick? Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him and have no notion of his errand, this accidental souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it.” “I think,” said I, following so far as I could the methods of my companion, “that Dr. Mortimer is a successful elderly medical man, well-esteemed since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation.” Reading aloud was very soothing. And especially when she knew who was listening to it. “’I think,” said I, following so far as I could the methods of my companion, “that Dr. Mortimer is a successful elderly medical man, well-esteemed since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation.’” She heard some shuffling behind the mirror and knew that Regina was adjusting slightly. Was she sitting in a cramped position? Or was she perhaps even pressing her ear against the back of the mirror in order to be able to hear Emma better? An impatient scratching sound told Emma to stop considering it and resume reading. “’ “Good!” said Holmes. “Excellent!” “I think also that the probability is in favor of his being a country practitioner who does a great deal of his visiting on foot.” “Why so?” “Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one, has been so knocked about that I can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it. The thick iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident that he has done a great amount of walking with it.” “Perfectly sound!” said Holmes. “And then again, there is the ‘friends of the C.C.H.’ I should guess that to be the Something Hunt, the local hunt to whose members he has possibly given some surgical assistance, and which has made him a small presentation in return.’” 

Again, this was so calming. Regina’s presence behind the mirror and knowing that she was listening, made Emma capable of focusing on the words a hundred percent. It didn’t matter whether they were singing together in the lair, dancing, or even kissing. Regina had such a way of grounding her and helping her find calm. And Emma was so grateful for that. She eagerly read aloud from The Hound of the Baskervilles to Regina, fully submerging herself into the story. She knew how much Regina appreciated Arthur Conan Doyle’s writing. She had told her so many times. And had scoffed the few times Emma had attempted to read from Pride and Prejudice. She had called it ‘a foolish love story’, and Emma had tried not to take it personally. She had heartedly defended Mr. Darcy, though, but Regina had just wrinkled her nose. 

Emma had managed to read quite a lot, and she had just started the chapter in which the hound attacks again when there was a knock on the door to her room. 

She immediately stopped reading aloud and glanced at the door. “Come in.”

The door opened and Lily came in. “Mum wants to see everyone downstairs,” she said shortly. For once there was no funny greeting or witty remark. And it was positively jarring. 

“Okay,” Emma said, closing the book and standing from the bed. “Let’s go downstairs,” she continued, more loudly than usually. That was jarring too, but she wanted to be sure that Regina knew that she was leaving. 

They left Emma’s room, walked into the hallway. Emma noted that Lily too had changed out of her costume and into her chorus dress. She had twisted her hair into an updo as well, and Emma started to wonder whether asking everyone to get ready for the concert had just been a panic response from Mme. Carlotta. An expression of shock, perhaps. 

“Is there any news on Ruby?” Emma asked her friend and anxiously curled her hands into fists. 

“I don’t know,” Lily replied. “Mum just told me to get everyone downstairs. Belle’s still in the hospital.”

Emma did not know what to think. Didn’t know whether this was good or bad. Of course Malena had asked them to gather so she could update them on the situation, but what exactly was ‘the situation’? 

Surely Ruby wasn’t... She couldn’t be...

No. Emma plainly refused to accept that. Of course Ruby would be just fine. She had to be!

“I have no idea what the fuck is going on,” Lily said plainly and bit her lip. The gesture left a lipstick mark on her teeth, but she didn’t seem to notice it. “What the hell is this day even?!”

“I don’t know,” Emma muttered. She truly didn’t. It had started out so wonderfully. Ruby had been so happy. So excited about the concert tonight and her role and everything. How could such a good day have turned into such a nightmare so quickly? 

As they walked down the hallway, Lily knocked on the other doors, prompting the rest of the choir ensemble to follow her. No one questioned her. Everyone followed without a word. Pale faces and stiff, formal clothing. It looked like they all were on their way to a very bizarre funeral. 

Emma swallowed something. Her stomach rolled dangerously as though she was going to throw up. But she refused to do that. Enough things had happened today. She didn’t need to cause a scene on top of everything else. This was not about her. It was about Ruby. Ruby’s accident. Ruby’s injury. Ruby’s fate...

The teachers were already gathered downstairs. Mme. Carlotta, Piangi, Mr. Gold Malena, the rest of the staff including Monsieur Reyer, their conductor who was frantically dabbing his forehead with a cloth. He was jittery by nature, and this probably hadn’t been helping the matter. 

“Thank you all for coming here so quickly,” Malena said formally. “Mr. Gold, would you care to inform everyone about the events?”

“Certainly, miss Drake,” Mr. Gold answered, stepping forward and gripping his cane tightly. “As you all now, miss Lucas fell down the stairs earlier this afternoon. She was rushed to the hospital and examined by a doctor. Miss Lucas has a grade three concussion, three broken ribs, a large gash in the back of her head that required twelve stiches, and a fractured ankle. However, she is showing no signs of spinal injuries or serious head traumas.”

Emma exhaled a long breath and unfiltered relief flittered through her. Ruby was alive!

“While we all of course feel for miss Lucas,” Mr. Gold continued. “And are relieved that her injuries are not as serious as first suspected, we unfortunately have to be practical too. Which means thinking about the concert-“

“You’re cancelling, right?” Killian piped up. 

“Mr. Jones!” Malena said strictly. “Be quiet!” nobody ever interrupted Mr. Gold while he spoke. 

“A cancellation was our first imminent response, Mr. Jones,” Mr. Gold said, unphased by the display of rudeness. “But after having discussed the practicalities and what a cancellation would mean, we have decided to move forward as intended with the concert.” 

Everyone started muttering, and Emma felt very confused. Without Ruby? How on earth was that supposed to happen?

“Quiet,” Malena said tightly, stepping forward as Mr. Gold stepped back and gave her the word. “We have to be practical. The parents are on their way. The audience will arrive in only few hours. It is too late to cancel the concert. Far too late. So we have decided to go about this like we would in any other emergency. With an understudy.”

“An UNDERSTUDY?!” Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, clearly frustrated and dabbed his forehead again. “There is no UNDERSTUDY for miss Lucas!”

“No, Monsieur Reyer, there isn’t,” Malena said calmly. “At least not an official one, but at times like these we have to think creative.”

Everyone, including Emma glanced around. Emma wasn’t sure what they were expecting, but she was expecting the understudy to come forward. Maybe they had managed to get Elsa in on short notice. Or maybe they had found someone completely different from another opera house. No. That wouldn’t make sense. They needed someone who knew the songs. Elsa did. Malena and Mr. Gold had to have succeeded in getting her to come here. That’s why they were all here. To wait for her. 

“Miss Swan,” Malena said rather suddenly, making Emma jump slightly and immediately fear that she had done something wrong. Cleared her throat or made some kind of other noise when the room should be quiet. 

“Would you care to join me in the next room for a moment?” Malena said, briskly walking towards the room where Emma and Regina had danced a few hours ago. Without waiting for an answer. 

A new and more loud round of muttering erupted, and Lily gripped Emma’s arm tightly. “Em?” she half-hissed. “What the hell is going on? Are you the new understudy?!”

“No!” Emma said immediately. This couldn’t possibly be what was going on, she desperately thought. It had to be about something else. Anything. She yanked her arm free of Lily’s too tight grasp and skittered after Malena into the room. 

When she came in, Malena was standing with her back to her and examining something in her hand. Giving the ‘something’ a closer look, Emma could see that it was her mask. The one Regina had taken off of her earlier. 

“That’s mine,” Emma said hastily. “I took it off earlier because I felt so warm.”

“Oh,” Malena said unconcerned and handed the mask to Emma. “Well, here you go, then.”

“Thank you.” Emma gripped on to the mask and desperately hoped that this was it. That the mask was the thing Malena wanted to talk to her about. 

“I have spoken to miss Lucas,” Malena started and brushed invisible dust off her collar. 

“She’s conscious?!” it bursted out of Emma. 

“She is. I only spoke with her briefly, but she was very concerned about the prospect of cancellation. I told her not to worry about a thing and let the teachers handle it, but knowing how headstrong miss   
Lucas is, she of course refused. She insisted that we proceeded with the concert. I told her that it unfortunately was impossible. That we do not have an understudy.”

They didn’t. Emma breathed a little easier. 

“But she was very adamant and insisted that we did have an understudy although not an official one. Can you guess who she named as her understudy?” 

Emma frantically shook her head. This could not be happening. 

“You, miss Swan,” Malena said gently and looked directly at Emma. “I know that this comes as a shock, and normally I would never even consider it because of your age and your inexperience, but miss Lucas insisted that your voice is strong enough. She talked about the progress you have made recently, and I must say that I agree with her. You have been progressing amazingly lately. Your voice is strong and secure. Almost as secure as miss Lucas.” Her voice became even softer as though she was approaching a frightened animal. In a way, she was. 

Emma could feel that her breathing had sped up. Her head was spinning. This was impossible. Couldn’t be real. 

“I trust miss Lucas’ opinion, miss Swan,” Malena continued, still gently. “And I trust my own common sense. I truly believe that you are capable of doing this.”

“I-“ Emma croaked. “I... No! I can’t! Malena, I’m not good enough!”

“Yes, you are, miss Swan. Don’t think that I haven’t noticed the confidence growing in you since you arrived here. You have improved massively. Technique-vise and physically. You sing with your whole body now. You have started to feel it. Feel the music.”

Feel the music. That was what Regina had spoken so much of. Emma’s eyes bulged as she looked at Malena. Of course it was just a coincidence, but still. “I...”

“Let me be frank with you for a moment, miss Swan,” Malena said softly and walked closer to Emma. She put a hand on her shoulder. “You have an energy on stage that most people can only dream of. Your entire face lights up when you sing. You have the ability to captivate your audience, and as your teacher and mentor, I am asking you to use that ability now. It has never been more required.”

Emma swallowed thickly. Stepping in as Ruby’s understudy?! She couldn’t! She wasn’t good enough or confident enough! She would mess up! She would end ruining everything!

“I... I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t, Malena. It’s too much!”

“I understand your concern, miss Swan,” Malena said gently. “Believe me, I do. I understand why this is all very overwhelming. And pressuring you is the last thing I want.”

She hadn’t said so, but Emma could hear the silent ‘but’. “There’s no alternative, is there?” she asked quietly. 

“The alternative is cancellation,” Malena said simply. “Which is doable. And everyone would understand if that is what the outcome will be.”

“Everyone?” Emma echoed.

“Mr. Gold has been informed of the situation.”

“Of course.” He was the owner of the opera house. Of course he knew exactly what was happening. 

“And he has verified it too,” Malena added and moved her hand away from Emma’s shoulder. “He has given his permission to using an unexpected understudy tonight. So forth the understudy is willing, of course.”

Emma bit her lip. She felt conflicted. Twisted every way. What answer could she even give? If she said no, the concert would be cancelled, and everything everyone had worked for in six months would go down the toilet because of her. But if she said yes, she could end up ruining everything. Suppose she opened her mouth to sing and no words came out? What if she froze on stage? Everyone would laugh at her. Whisper to each other. Her parents would be so disappointed in her. And the rumors about the disastrous excuse for an understudy would be going around in Paris.

But... 

Every prayer was resting on her now. 

And....

She knew the songs. Knew every word.

Malena believed that she could do this. 

Ruby believed that she could do this.

Mr. Gold had given his permission.

Her parents would be so proud of her if she did this.

Her voice had not failed her in a long, long time. 

The world’s best teacher and mentor had made sure of that. 

If Emma said no, the teachers and other students wouldn’t be the only ones finding out about it.

And if there was one person in this world Emma couldn’t disappoint, it was Regina.

“Well,” Emma heard herself say, and it felt like the opera house was holding its breath while she made her decision. “I will do it.”

A smile spread on Malena’s lips. “You will?”

“Yes,” Emma said squeakily. “I will be Ruby’s understudy.” Was she really saying yes to this?! Had she lost her mind?! She shouldn’t even be CONSINDERING to say yes to this kind of decision. She should back pedal and say that she couldn’t. That she wasn’t experienced enough. That she was too nervous. That she would ruin everything. 

But it was too late. The words were already out of her mouth, and Malena was smiling like Christmas had come early. Emma couldn’t say no. 

“Miss Swan,” Malena said, gently grabbing her shoulder once more. “I hope you know how grateful everyone is. Tonight you’re saving all of us. A cancellation of a full house would have been disastrous for us. Thank you is a poor word.”

Emma managed to put on a smile. But inside she was panicking while the word ‘understudy’ echoed in her ear until it became a roar.

She was nobody. Just a girl from a small town in Maine who traveled to Paris to become a part of the choir ensemble. Girls like her were meant for the backrow. Background singers while somebody else was the star.

But not anymore.

Malena lead her out of the little room and back inside the large hall where the rest of the students and teachers were still gathered.

Everyone looked up when Emma and Malena came back, but Malena ignored it and once again became the effective teacher she normally was when she addressed Mme. Carlotta: “Carlotta, gather a watered down version of tonight’s orchestra. Violin. Flute. Piano. That is all we have time for right now. Tell them to meet us in the auditorium.”

“Yes, Malena,” Carlotta said, hastily walking up the stairs and disappearing from view. 

“Monsieur Reyer,” Malena turned to the conductor. “Are you prepared for a new rehearsal with fewer instruments?” 

“If my new diva commands me,” he replied, bowing his head lightly at Emma, flashing her a little smile and then disappearing through a door. 

“Ubaldo,” Malena said, addressing Piangi now. “Could you please get a hold of our seamstress and tell her that miss Lucas’ costume will need adjusting? The new measurements are already in the system.”

Piangi didn’t waste time on answering. He simply ran up the stairs as fast as he could. When he too had disappeared from sight, Mr. Gold hobbled forward, leaning heavily on his cane as he asked: “can I be of any help, miss Drake?”

“Yes, you can give the official announcement, Mr. Gold,” Malena smiled. She gave Emma’s hand a reassuring squeeze and then stepped back. 

“I’d be delighted,” Mr. Gold smiled. He held onto the cane with one hand and put his other hand lightly on Emma’s shoulder. “Everyone, it is with great pleasure that I can introduce you to tonight’s understudy who bravely have said yes to step in now that miss Lucas unfortunately is absent...... Miss Emma Swan!”

There was a moment of silence where nobody reacted. Everyone just stared at one another. Some of the older choir members looked visibly upset and angry. Some of them simply stunned. 

But then Lily broke the silence by applauding. It didn’t take long before Malena followed her example, and that inspired others. Mr. Gold was next, and everyone respected him. Soon everyone were applauding. Some even cheering, and Emma didn’t know what to do with herself. She settled for smiling in gratitude while her insides curled and twisted. Everyone was counting on her! Oh god...

Her panic was cut off when Monsieur Reyer and Mme. Carlotta came back with a few members of the orchestra carrying their instruments.

“We’re ready to rehearse,” Monsieur Reyer announced and urged Emma along. 

“From the beginning of the aria, mademoiselle!

Everything was happening incredibly fast.

Emma was walked through the songs for the concert and sped-rehearsed all of them. Her voice did not fail her now, but this was just rehearsal. There was no way of telling how things would go later. 

She was tested with the orchestra to see if any changes should be made in order ‘to compliment her voice’, and she was brought into the costume room to try on the costume to see if any changes needed to be made there. That wasn’t required. The costume had been adapted for her. Once that had been sorted out, she was asked to take off the costume again and come into the auditorium to meet with their dance teacher. Ruby had not been standing completely still on stage. She had been doing a few dance moves while tossing the long silk scarf about. Fortunately enough, that wasn’t very difficult to learn. Nor was the way she had to float the long scarf around while singing. That scarf was an important part of the costume and performance.

Next there was the microphone she had to get adjusted to. Meaning that she had to sing with the microphone attached to her clothes. In time, the microphone would be placed somewhere discreet where it couldn’t be seen, and the idea of wearing a microphone while singing made Emma so terribly nervous. Every little mistake or fumble would be noticeable. 

She still couldn’t believe that this was happening as she stood on stage and got adjusted to the strong light as Malena had told her to. In less than an hour she would be standing on stage. Filling out for Ruby. Ruby’s understudy. Her stomach twisted, and she wasn’t sure whether she needed to throw up or pee. Both things seemed appealing right now.

“How is the lightening working out for you, miss Swan?” Malena asked somewhere from the audiences seats. “It’s not too bright, is it?”

“No, it’s fine,” Emma squeaked. She had done a lot of squeaking tonight. 

“Wonderful. I’ll be switching on the projector now, so feel free to move about so we can see how that works.”

Emma did as instructed and started walking around on stage. She did the few graceful dance moves she had learned and pretended to be flicking the long scarf playfully in the air like she was supposed to.

“Perfect!” Malena said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Emma! This is going to be a huge success. Miss Lucas will be proud of you.”

Emma swallowed something and bit the inside of her cheek while trying to smile as best as she could. Hearing Malena’s reassurance that the concert would be a huge success, only made her all the more   
nervous. And convinced that the concert would be the opposite of a success. Once again, she feared that she would not be able to get a word out. 

In the costume/makeup room, Emma’s face was cleansed of the modest chorus-girl-makeup she had applied earlier. The soft shadow on her eyelids was replaced with a much darker, more prominent shade. As the ‘star’ of the show, she couldn’t wear light makeup, Babette, the smiling elderly lady who did her makeup, said.

“So brave of you to step in, dear,” she praised.

Emma couldn’t answer. Mainly because Babette was in the process of applying lipstick to her lips. Gone was the subtle rose color Emma had chosen earlier, and replaced it had been with apple red lipstick. 

Her cheekbones had been high lightened, her face powdered in something that apparently would prevent it from shining under the bright lights. Emma still felt a bit like she was dreaming. Everything was happening quickly and slowly at the same time. 

After her arms which would be visible during the performance, had been rubbed in some kind of liquid that would prevent them from shining too, another woman came into the room. This time it was the hairstylist.

Emma’s hair was carefully unpinned from the twisted updo she would have had if she had been a part of the choir tonight. The hairstylist carefully brushed it until it shone and then she sprayed Emma’s curls until they were sitting perfectly. 

“There we are. Now all we need is the crown. And costume too of course,” she said cheerfully as she fussed a bit with Emma’s curls. “You have the perfect hair for this, miss Swan. Fairytale curls is a part of the role. Miss Lucas’ hair always takes ages to style, but all your hair needs is a bit of brushing and some saltwater spray and you’re good to go!”

Once again, Emma tried her best to smile and say thank you for the compliment.

“The dresser should be here in a moment,” the hairstylist told her and then she took off. 

Emma looked at her face in the mirror. Could barely believe that the girl looking back was her. Her eyes had been accentuated by a golden eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and several coats of black mascara. 

Her eyelashes were lightly curled instead of straight. Her cheekbones seemed sharper because of the highlighter, and any signs of her cheeks usual childish roundness was gone. Her lips on the other hand, most certainly looked plumper because of the apple red lipstick. 

She looked several years older. Nineteen. Twenty. Maybe even twenty one. 

Before Emma could get the chance to blink and turn the girl in the mirror into herself again, the door opened, and a little round woman with dimples came in. 

“Good evening, miss Swan,” she greeted. “I’m Antoinette, your dresser. Shall we get the costume on you, dear?” 

Emma settled for nodding mutely. 

This was real. And it was happening. She could hear the mutterings from the auditorium just outside the dressing room. Her fellow choir-members were rehearsing with the orchestra while she was sitting here, about to wear Ruby’s costume, singing Ruby’s songs. The whole thing felt bizarre, and she didn’t quite understand how she was capable of standing up and letting Antoinette help her. 

First part of the costume was the green and orange bodice with the invisible straps and the visible, heavy straps that slid down her shoulders. They were made of jewels that shimmered every time she moved. 

Antoinette helped her with lacing up the bodice in the back, but when she found the heavy brocade skirt in colors that matched the bodice and was about to tie it around Emma’s waist, Emma stopped her and said: “you know what, I can do that myself.”

“Are you sure?” Antoinette asked. She was clearly not convinced. 

“Yeah,” Emma said and tried not to squeak. “I’m sure.”

“Alright then, dear,” Antoinette said, carefully laying the skirt on the back of a chair. “I’ll send Malena in to help you with the crown in ten minutes.”

“Okay!” now she was definitely squeaking. 

Antoinette left the dressing room, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Emma exhaled shakily and gripped on to the table for support. Her heart was pounding with five hundred kilometers per second, and once again she wasn’t sure whether she needed to be sick or needed to pee. It wouldn’t be long before the opera house filled up with people. Including her parents. Would anyone inform them before the performance? Or would this come as a complete surprise to them? Emma hadn’t gotten the chance to see if her mom ever called her back. She had been too busy ever since the moment   
she agreed to fill out for Ruby. 

She took another breath. What were the other choir members thinking about all of this? What if some of them got jealous because of it? Emma didn’t want any trouble. She was only trying to help. But she wasn’t sure of how much of a help it would be to anyone if she froze up on stage. For a moment, she almost felt upset at Ruby for recommending her as the understudy. But then she remembered that she’d had every opportunity to say no. This had been her own decision.

Emma pulled herself together. Now was not the time for a nervous breakdown, she reminded herself as she reached for the heavy skirt. Oh. Now she understood why Antoinette had looked skeptical when she said that she wanted to put it on herself. The skirt was incredibly heavy. Heavier than expected, and Emma struggled a bit as she slung the skirt around her hips. First part done. Now she ‘just’ had to tie the strings in the back. But that was easier said than done too. Tying it in the back was hard when she couldn’t see what she was doing, and tying it at the front would look silly. All the beautiful applications was on the front. They matched the applications on her bodice, and it would look silly if she was wearing the skirt backwards. Everyone would notice, and it surely would be the audiences first reason to laugh at her.

Emma had to swallow something again, and then the strings slipped from her fingers. The heavy skirt would undoubtedly had ended up on the floor if it hadn’t been for the quick pair of hands grabbing it and holding it up. 

“I’ll handle that.”

Had it been anyone else suddenly speaking right behind her and grazing her hips like that, Emma would have startled and yelled. But Regina’s soft voice in her ear, gentle fingers on her hips and delicate scent of roses only soothed Emma and made her feel nothing but safe. 

“Hi,” she muttered and closed her eyes as Regina began fiddling with the strings. 

“My dear,” Regina greeted. “What a turn your evening has taken.” 

“Y-yeah,” Emma stuttered and felt that lump in her throat again. “I shouldn’t have said yes. I don’t know why I did it. I can’t do this, Regina! I’m not ready!”

“You can and you are,” Regina said calmly as she tightened the strings in Emma’s skirt. “Is that too tight, dear?”

“No,” Emma murmured. “It’s fine. But the costume is wasted on me! I won’t be able to do this! I’ll freeze up or stutter and just stand there like an idiot, I never should have said yes to this! I don’t know what came over me, but I’ve come to my senses! And I can’t possibly-“

“That’s enough,” Regina interrupted almost sharply, and the strings whizzed slightly as she tied the heavy skirt around Emma’s hips. “Have I not taught you anything?” 

“Of course you have,” Emma said immediately. “You’ve taught me every-“

“And have I not been a good teacher?”

“You HAVE, but I-“

“Then why on earth do you keep saying that you can’t do this?” Regina asked and smoothened a hand over the back of the skirt. “I’ve never heard such nonsense.”

“It is not nonsense,” Emma mumbled defiantly. 

Regina ignored that and continued: “I have taught you everything there is to know about singing. I’ve taught you how to breathe, how to move, how to sustain and how to reach the highest note. The fact   
that you think you’re not able to do this is insulting to both of us.” 

Emma brushed invisible dust off the skirt. “All those people,” she whispered. “They’ll all be looking at me.”

“Of course they’ll be looking at you, my darling,” Regina replied and placed her long fingers on Emma’s shoulders. “Because YOU are the star.” 

The way she said it sent shivers down Emma’s spine. But she was still scared. “I can’t,” she croaked. “Not when everyone is looking at me.”

“Then forget that they’re looking at you, my dear. And look to one place only. Box Five.”

Emma’s heart thudded in her chest. “You’ll be there?”

“Of course I will.”

“All the time?”

“All the time,” Regina confirmed and gently turned Emma, so she was looking at herself in the mirror. “There. Look at yourself, my darling. You are a vision.” 

“I’m scared,” Emma said stupidly and only looked at Regina’s reflection in the mirror. She had changed out of the red dress and into one of her many black ones. She had also put her usual white half-mask back on. There was a time where Emma had found that mask to be terrifying. Now she only found it soothing.

“And why is that?” Regina asked plainly. “You have already impressed the one who is the hardest to impress. Me. Impressing everyone else will be mere child’s play.”

Emma was just about to lick her lips when she remembered that she was wearing lipstick and should not. “But I’m just a chorus girl,” she whispered. “From the third row. And I like the third row. It’s where I belong.”

Regina sighed and scratched her fingernails lightly against Emma’s shoulders. “No, it is not. And it never has been.”

“But I-“

“You know the third row isn’t enough,” Regina interrupted, now stroking Emma’s shoulders gently with the pads of her fingertips. “You know it isn’t what you need. You know you’re made of finer stuff. I think on that, we’re all agreed.” She chuckled lightly. 

“But Regina-“

“’It’s time to leave it in the dust,’” Regina sang into her ear. “’It’s time to be who you should be! It’s time to do now as you must, and set the music in you free!’”

Emma gulped and all the little hairs in the back of her neck stood up as Regina sang. 

“’In moments, mere moments, drums will roll,’” Regina kept singing and stroked the side of her neck now. Her voice was growing soft and powerful at the same time. “’There you’ll stand, just like in the lair... The crowd will hush.... And then in one, sweet rush.... I will hear you sing once more!’”

“But what if I fail?” Emma whispered and tried not to focus on the way Regina had drawled the word 'rush'.

“You will not,” Regina replied and tapped the sides of her neck.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are my apprentice,” she said simply and reached within the hidden pocket of her dress. “MY apprentice. Do you know what that means? If you do this, I will truly be able to watch my Little Swan fly. See what you’ve become. What we’ve created. You and me. Together. Together.”

Emma swallowed thickly again.

“’And music, our music, will swell and then unwind... Like two strands of melody, at last entwined!’” Regina fastened a delicate chain around her neck. The pendant glimmered in the light, and Emma was stunned to discover that it was the pendant was a swan. 

Regina put her hands on her shoulders again, and when her sang once more, her voice was less gentle. “’Fulfill us! Complete us! Make us whole!’” Her arm slipped from Emma’s shoulder and wrapped loosely around her neck like it had done once before. That night in the lair.

“’Seal our bond forevermore....’”

Emma gasped sharply. Her head lolled to the side to rest in the crook of Regina’s elbow as her hand came up to touch Regina’s mask. Exactly like it had once before. 

“Tonight for me, embrace your destiny!’” Regina sang as she put her hand on top of Emma’s to keep it on her mask for a moment. “’Let me hear you sing..... Once more!’”

Emma’s head was spinning, and she was barely aware that Regina turned her around until Regina moved her hand away from her and reached for something laying on the table. It took Emma a second to realize that it was the crown she was going to wear when performing. Regina said nothing, and neither did Emma as she simply bowed her head, allowing Regina to fasten the crown upon her head.

“There,” Regina said gently when done. She put a long finger under Emma’s chin and tilted her face up. “You are ready.” 

Emma looked up at her mentor and Angel of Music. Suddenly confident, she smiled. 

Regina returned the smile. Tilted Emma’s face down and then she kissed her chastely on top of her head. She glanced towards the door, let go of Emma, and without another word she walked a few steps backwards, crouched down and pulled two loose floorboards aside. 

Emma watched slightly stunned as Regina effortlessly wiggled through the narrow crack in the floor and disappeared. Well. Now she knew how Regina had managed to show up so quickly. It was a strange thing to see the floorboards being put back where they belonged from the inside. 

Knock-knock-knock! “Miss Swan? Are you ready?”

Malena’s voice made Emma wake up from the trance she had been in, and she quickly moved so she was standing on top of the floorboards Regina had just put back in place. Just as a precaution. “I’m ready,” she squeaked. 

The door opened and Malena peered inside. “It is time,” she smiled. “You look lovely.” 

“Thank you,” Emma said, graciously accepting the compliment.

“Come,” Malena said, extending an arm out towards her.

Emma gathered her skirt with one hand and followed Malena out of the dressing room, trying her best not to look back at the loose floorboards Regina had just disappeared through.

The reached the edge of the curtain that covered the stage, and Malena smiled reassuringly to Emma as they heard Mr. Gold announce: “and therefore she will tonight be doubled by another extremely talented young lady from our ensemble.... Miss Emma Swan!”

There was an uproar of applauds. Mr. Gold hobbled off the stage. When he reached Emma and Malena, he smiled encouragingly. Emma did her best to return the smile.

The curtain slid aside. The spotlight was switched on. The entire opera house held its breath yet again.

This was her cue.

Emma took a deep breath and walked out on the stage......

To Be Continued.........


	52. Brava, Brava, Bravissima

For a moment it felt like the light was gonna blind her. Emma feared that her eyes would start watering and that she would ruin her makeup.

But then the lights blinded down, and she was able to see again. She saw the full opera house. Every last seat was taken. And everyone was looking at her. Amongst the faces looking at her, Emma saw her parents. They were sitting quite close to the stage. Exactly like they had said they would. They wanted to sit close to the stage to be able to see her in the third row. That was what they had said. Well, now they did not have to search long for her. She was right here. And it was as clear as day that her parents had not been informed of this before Mr. Gold announced her name to everyone. There hadn’t been time before the performance. 

They looked shocked, her parents. Emma could see it. Her dad’s mouth was hanging wide open, and her mom’s eyes were as wide as saucers. As Emma looked at them, her mom leaned in and whispered something in Emma’s father’s ear. What was she whispering about, Emma wondered. Was she whispering that ‘Emma can’t possible do this?’. It was possible. Her mom certainly looked shocked and concerned.

Emma felt the indignation rise within her. Did her mom really not think that she was capable of this? 

Was she? Was she capable of this? 

Anxiety made her stomach cramp, and Emma’s breathing sped up as she heard the orchestra in the pit. Monsieur Reyer signalized to them, and the violins started.

This was it. She was supposed to sing. 

Emma opened her mouth. 

Her belly twisted. 

Tied in knots. 

Her throat tightened. 

They were looking at her.

Everyone. 

They were all looking at her.

No sound was coming out of her mouth.

She couldn’t do this.

Couldn’t sing.

Her body tensed.

Locked.

Froze.

She could already hear someone whispering. It wouldn’t be long before they started laughing too. She was going to disappoint everyone. 

But then she looked up. Searched for the one person who could help her now. And she found her.

Regina was sitting in Box Five. Hidden in plain sight. When Emma locked eyes with her, Regina made a movement with her hands near her face. ‘Eyes on me’.

Emma took a deep breath. 

‘Seal our bond, forevermore.’

That’s what Regina had sung for her, and that was what Emma was going to do. Right now. She couldn’t possibly disappoint Regina.

She took another deep breath. Opened her mouth once more. And this time, something happened. “’Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo giusto,’” her voice swelled and ascended towards the ceiling. If she kept her eyes on Regina, she could do this. This was her. This was what she was supposed to do. And it always had been. The orchestra began playing. The violins started out slowly as though those too were doubting her ability to do this.

They did not have to worry. None of them did. “’ Lì tutti vivano in pace e in onestà….’” She saw her parents. Her mom still looked completely stunned, but her dad was smiling from ear to ear. Almost grinning. He leaned to the side and whispered something to her mom who responded with shaking her head slightly and just staring at her. It was obvious that she couldn’t believe what she was seeing and hearing.

But Emma was not the same girl who had left Storybrooke six months ago. She was a completely new person. “’Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere, Come le nuvole che volano! Pien d'umanità in fondo all'anima….’” Behind her, the choir started to vocalize like they were supposed to. Each and every one were supporting her. She saw the look of relief on Monsieur Reyer’s face. Saw Malena smile proudly. And relieved too. Perhaps she had been fearing that Emma wouldn’t be able to do this after all. But she did not have too worry. Emma had never felt more sure of herself and her voice. oh, how it soared and gave way in this room! The opera house was no longer holding its breath. It was exhaling. And so was she. She felt no longer scared. She felt no longer shy. So they were all looking at her. And so what? Emma had eyes for only one person. The Phantom of the Opera looking at her from Box Five. 

“’Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo chiaro, lì anche la notte è meno oscura.... Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere. Come le nuvole che volano.’” She couldn’t look away from Regina. Couldn’t take her eyes off of her. She wished she could have seen Regina’s expression a little better, but Regina was too far away.

“’Pien d'umanità,”’ the choir was still singing behind her, but Emma barely registered it. She was too wrapped up in the music. Too wrapped up in the feeling. And the knowledge that this was real and happening. “’Nella fantasia esiste un vento caldo,’” she sang as she gracefully raised her arms and floated the scarf high above her. Emma had never believed very much in herself. But tonight she did. 

Tonight, she could do anything and everything. She was already doing it. The impossible. The dream.

¡Che soffia sulle città, come amico!’” Emma spun around and playfully let the scarf dance in the air. She was sure she saw Regina move a little closer to the edge in Box Five. And she was also sure that Regina was smiling underneath the mask. 

Emma felt a rush of triumph as the music picked up. So did her voice. She had no problem with following the music. “’ Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere!’” another spin. Another rush of adrenaline. 

The choir was still singing behind her, and right now Emma had never felt farther away from the third row, her usual spot. 

Her voice had never been more pure and soft yet strong. No sign of breathiness. No sign of fragility. The best teacher in the world had made sure of that. Emma knew that she was not simply doing this for herself. This was for both of them. She felt as though Regina was singing through her. Her spirit and Emma’s voice combined. Two strands of melody at last intertwined. She could feel Regina’s music run through her veins every time she sang. Regina might as well have been with her right here on the stage. That was how it felt to Emma. The Angel of Music and her apprentice together on stage at last. 

She turned her head and found Regina as she sang the last bit of the song: ‘“’Come le nuvole che volano! Pien d'umanità in fondo all'anima.”’

The opera house exploded. The audience stood from their chairs and applauded. The sound was like a roar in Emma’s ears. Her mom still looked completely stunned as she too applauded. Her dad loudly proclaimed: “that’s my daughter!”, making several parents look at him and smile. Malena smiled too. Proudly. 

Emma curtsied like she was supposed to, and once again, her eyes sought Regina. And found her. Regina was not applauding. She couldn’t risk doing that because it would draw attention to her. But she was most definitely smiling under the mask. Emma had never seen Regina smile as much as she was doing right now. She looked radiant, and that smile was probably the only thing that could have moved Emma away from the stage. Had Regina wagged her finger and mouthed “come here”, Emma would have picked up her skirt and left the stage without any hesitation. 

But of course Regina did not do that. She just kept looking and looking at Emma, and Emma was not able to look away until the applaud died down and everyone sat down. Monsieur Reyer flicked forward in his sheet of music. 

Emma knew what was coming now. Nessun Dorma. The song they had rehearsed a million times. She had seen Ruby get frustrated with the lyrics so many times. Had heard her struggle with the last note often. It was a bit of a difficult song. And also one that she would be singing ‘alone’ for the first while. It was practically a solo. Emma felt a flicker of her old anxiety, but then she looked at Regina once more and was reassured that she could do this.

The orchestra began playing. The violins sat in with the familiar first tune. This was her cue.

Emma took a quick breath and began singing: “’Nessun Dorma, nessun Dorma...’” she had just sung one song. Of course she could do this too. “’Tu pure, o Principessa, Nella tua fredda stanza....’” like a flower, her voice opened up and found the exact balance between gentle and powerful. “’ Guardi le stelle, Che tremano d'amore e di speranza!’” her voice and the orchestra playing were the only sounds in the enormous room. 

Everyone was looking at her. A captivated audience. 

Emma felt big and small at the same time as she stood there on the stage, and she felt a shiver run down her spine as the music picked up. “’Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me!’” her skin prickled. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She felt her stomach tingle. Felt her voice expand and strengthen. Climb higher and higher. “’ Il nome mio nessun saprà, No, no… sulla tua bocca lo dirò…..’” reaching a high note and not struggling to do so at all. “’Quando la luce... Splenderà!’” a quick intake of breath. Looking at one place only as she continued: “’ Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio..... Che ti fa mia... ’” 

Now came the choir’s part. Emma could relax for a moment as they sang behind her. She did not walk around or draw attention to herself. Just stood still so her friends behind her could shine. The only thing she was not mastering, was looking at the audience. She was only looking at Box Five. Regina was not looking at her. Her eyes were closed, and she was swaying lightly back and forward to the music. It was beautiful. 

Emma felt as though there was an invisible bond between them, and she was sure that Regina’s feelings were her own. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by how intensely she felt connected to Regina despite her not even being close to her. The music was pulsating within her. Wrapping around her bones and filling her chest. Her body was on fire. 

The music changing brought her out of the slight trance she might have been in, and she remembered that she was supposed to sing. She opened her eyes, not less overwhelmed, but ready to continue. 

“’Dilegua, o notte!’” she lifted her arms once more. Felt that rush that . 

“’Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle…. All’alba…. Vincerò…’” She climbed the ladder. Felt her skin tingle in anticipation with what was coming. 

The music stilled for a moment. She was the one leading the orchestra, not the other way around. It was up to her now.

The air around her trembled for a moment. The opera house was holding it’s breath.

And then....

“’Vincerò!’” her head lolled back, her arms came up once more. Then gracefully floated to either side. Was this even her? Emma was not so sure. Her voice did not echo here like it did in the lair, but she did not need an echo. This was enough. Her voice unfurling was enough She was not standing. She was soaring. Flying like a swan. She sustained. Held the note for a beat longer than she actually was supposed to, and then she let it go and allowed her voice too to become a part of the rising music.

The choir vocalizing behind her blended with the audience applauding and Emma couldn’t help but smile though she was not yet done. 

Emma closed her eyes, and while the audience was still applauding and the choir had hushed, she triumphed once more: “’Vincerò!’” again, she held the note for a beat. She probably would have been able to hold it forever, but once she saw the first sign of tears in her mother’s eyes, she released and let the scarf fall to the floor like she was supposed to. She gave a deep curtsy and smiled. Out of breath and with music pulsating within her. The audience’s applaud roared once more, and her mom was not the only one moved by Emma’s performance. Malena too appeared to be wiping her eyes.

Emma gave another deep curtsy. A smile. This one aimed at her parents. Both of them smiling back at her. 

She was not given long to rest her voice. The orchestra started again. Another familiar tune. Emma smiled. Felt a tickle of anticipation. No anxiety. If she had been able to sing the other two songs, of course she was able to do this too. 

“’Quando sono solo, E sogno all'orizzonte,’” her voice bubbled with confidence, and she sounded way too excited seeing that this was supposed to be a somber song. But she could not help it. 

“E mancan le parole, sì lo so che non c'è luce, In una stanza quando manca il sole. Se non ci sei tu con me, con me. Se non ci sei tu con me, con me. Su le finestre, mostra a tutti il mio cuore. Che hai acceso. Chiudi dentro me, la luce che, hai incontrato per strada....’” she took a quick intake of breath. Couldn’t help but smile at her audience as she stepped forward across the stage. No one had told her to. The initiation came naturally.

“’Time to.... Say goodbye,’” she sang and as opposite to a moment earlier, her voice was all sweetness and softness now. She didn’t need to sound powerful. At least not yet. “’Paesi che non ho mai, veduto e vissuto con te!’” NOW she let her power show again. “’Adesso sì li vivrò, con te partirò... Su navi per mari, che, io lo so! No, no, non esistono più! It’s time to say goodbye....’”

The choir took over. In a moment, Emma would be ‘answering’ them, but she took this quick break to look at Box Five yet again. And what she saw, nearly made her heart stop for a moment.

Regina was crying. Now that Emma was standing closer to the edge of the scene, she could see it clearly. And there was not a sliver of doubt in her mind that she had moved Regina to tears. 

As though she could feel Emma’s lingering gaze, Regina looked up. Even from the distance, their eyes locked in on each other. And then Regina bowed her head lightly. Such a simple gesture.

Barely there.

And yet the highest form of praise Emma could possibly achieve in this very moment. She had moved Regina to tears. That was the only thing that mattered right now.

Seeing Regina be moved by the music, only spurred Emma on, and if she had given it a hundred percent before, she was giving it two hundred percent now. She was pouring her heart and soul into singing, and she did not sense anything except for the music. And Regina. It was as though the audience disappeared and it was just the two of them here. The connection between them was stronger than ever. The string of music floating between them unbreakable. It made Emma feel giddy, and when she picked up the scarf to drape it lightly over her shoulders, she did it entirely without looking at what she was doing. She wasn’t even anxious about tripping in the heavy skirt. She felt graceful as never before. The music was within her. Pouring right out of her with each tune she sang. She could almost see the music float in the air like golden dust. Could almost reach out and touch it with her fingertips.

It was a mere miracle that she herself had not yet floated away. It was astonishing that her feet hadn’t lifted off the ground. Puzzling that the music hadn’t carried her all the way up to Box Five and Regina. 

The woman she loved. The woman she was singing to. The rest of the audience was merely puppets. Emma did not see them at all. She didn’t hear the choir or the orchestra accompanying her as she sang.

It was just her and Regina. Together. 

Regina was sitting on her knees now. She had to. It was just her face that was visible above the ledge in Box Five. She was hiding in plain sight. Could people truly not see her?

If Emma didn’t know any better, she would say that she was the only one who could see her. 

But she did know better. And she knew with a hundred percent that Regina was real. Gloriously real. Real enough to reach out and touch. Not now, but later. Unlike the music, Regina would not disappear the moment Emma stopped singing. She was not like the golden dust that simply would vaporize before her eyes.

Acknowledging this, how wonderfully real Regina was, made Emma feel even more giddy. And that giddiness was evident as she sang. Her voice sounded like a thousand little bells, and her stomach did that somersault thing it always did when she was singing. Regina was looking at her again, and the intensity of her gaze made Emma’s skin flush. And it brought new strength to her voice. The voice Regina had created.....

Emma felt as though she was going deaf. 

She wouldn’t be surprised if the roof on the opera house lifted in a moment.

The audiences’ applaud sounded most of all like a thunderstorm had erupted in the opera house. 

Emma’s legs were shaking as she curtsied deeply once more. Her palms were sweaty, and the scarf kept slipping between her fingers. She felt extremely humble. And proud. She was worthy of the applaud   
she was receiving right now. She was worthy of the pictures being taken of her by her dad. And the reporter who had covered the concert. 

She had just given the performance of a lifetime. This was the biggest. No moment would ever overtrump this, Emma was sure of that, and she didn’t quite know what she was supposed to do with herself. 

She was slowly coming down from her high, and once again realizing how many people there were looking at her. Oddly enough, she felt shy now. An irrelevant feeling seeing that it was over now. There was nothing more to feel anxious about.

The audience was still applauding. Some of them cheering. Emma was about to curtsey yet again and make a fool of herself when hands grabbed hers. Lily on her left. Killian on her right. Both of them holding her hands. 

Killian looked slightly stunned. Lily was grinning from ear to ear as she mouthed ‘oh my god!’. She looked as though she was about to hug Emma, but before she could, the other members of the choir showed up. They took each other’s hands and formed a long line on the stage. Then they bowed. Once, twice, three times as the applaud rained down on all of them. Hands pushed her forward, and she had no choice but to curtsey yet again. Now the choir was applauding her too. The orchestra. Her teachers. Her parents.

Regina was not. But she didn’t need to. The look she was giving Emma, said more than a thousand words, and Emma held back a gasp as she felt her toes and stomach curl pleasantly. 

“That’s my daughter!” her dad loudly declared once more, and the choir laughed. Emma wanted to do the same, but she was distracted when Mr. Gold came hobbling onto the stage. He was holding onto his cane with one hand and carrying a large bouquet of colorful flowers in his other.

“Congratulation, Miss Swan,” he said when he reached her. “You are a pride to the Palais Garnier,” he smiled as he handed the bouquet to her. 

“Thank you, Mr. Gold,” Emma squeaked as she accepted the large bouquet. It was so large she nearly disappeared under it, and she became so flustered she ended up curtseying to Mr. Gold as well.

That made him laugh, and he participated in the applaud still going on.

It took almost two full minutes before Emma could walk off the stage. And even then she had a tail of excited choir-members trailing behind her. All of them were chattering at once, and Emma couldn’t hear a word any of them said. Her ears felt oddly clogged. She was out of breath, flustered and her palms were damp. The brocade skirt was starting to weighting her down slightly, and she felt like she could need a moment to herself. But that seemed impossible.

“Emma, oh my god!” Lily cried as she hugged Emma again and again, nearly crushing the large bouquet Emma was still holding in her arms. “You were amazing! Absolutely incredible!”

“Thank you,” Emma laughed and hugged her friend back. She felt wonderful. Despite the heavy skirt. But she nevertheless felt like she could need a moment to herself. To powder her nose or have a glass of water or something. Her throat felt a bit dry. A bit scratchy. She was looking for a way out when Malena stepped in and ordered the choir to give Emma some space. Then she patted Emma’s shoulder and gave her a ‘well done, Emma’. Perhaps that didn’t sound like high praise, but when coming from Malena, it was big words.

“Thank you, Malena,” Emma said almost shyly.

Malena returned the smile. “Why don’t you run along and get changed out of the costume. I know that your parents are eager to reunite with you.”

Emma retired to the dressing room. She didn’t exactly ‘run along’, that was impossible because of the skirt, but she did made it inside the quiet room where she found Antoinette waiting for her, ready to help her out of the costume, but Emma smilingly rejected her help and sent her out of the room. She didn’t need help with the costume. She could take it off on her own. It couldn’t be that difficult. And she really needed a moment to herself before her parents came storming. They had the habit of doing that. And tonight they would most likely have a question or two for her. They had looked so proud of her.

Once Antoinette had left, Emma put the large bouquet of flowers down on the little makeup table. Her head was spinning, and she had trouble with wrapping her head around what just had happened.   
That she had just sung for a full opera house. And she had done a great job. No, better than that. She had knocked it out of the park!

Emma laughed quietly to herself as she reached back and began tugging at the strings in the heavy skirt. She really needed to get it off. It was so heavy. Emma was not used to wearing such heavy costumes. Her usual white chorus dress was made of the lightest fabric. This was quite the change.

As she wrestled with the knot in the skirt, she looked around in the dressing room. There was a bottle of water standing on the table along with a little bowl of fruit, and there was a ruffled white dressing gown laying draped over the back of a chair. This was clearly how it felt to be a ‘star’. Emma chuckled to herself and wasn’t even bothered when she failed to untie the knot in the skirt. It was probably only a matter of time anyway. The knot had gone quite loose.

“Brava, brava, bravissima.....”

The first time she had heard it, Emma had startled and nearly fallen out of bed. Now her only reaction was to accidentally yank harshly at the ties on her skirt. But that didn’t bother her either. She merely laughed as she hastily shuffled over to the door and locked it. Then she waited. The praise had come from underneath the floor. Regina was close. Very close. 

She saw the floorboards move (which still was odd to be honest), they were pushed to the side, and Emma was nearly doing a little dance of impatience as she saw a hand appear on the floor. Then another. Arms. A mask wearing face. And then the rest of Regina appeared as she elegantly hoisted herself up from underneath the floorboards. Her hair had gone a bit tousled because of the maneuver, but there wasn’t a speck of dust on her black velvet dress. She smiled a little as she looked at Emma.

Emma couldn’t contain herself a second longer. She didn’t even wait for Regina to greet her. She simply abandoned the strings in the skirt and rushed towards Regina. The skirt loosened and fell to the floor with a sound that perfectly matched how heavy it had been to wear, but Emma ignored it. It only meant that her movement were no longer constricted, and she took full advance of that as she more or less flung herself into Regina’s arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around Regina’s neck and she laughed as her eager gesture made Regina stagger slightly. 

“Dear me,” Regina said and chuckled as she regained balance. 

“I did it,” Emma whispered and looked up at her mentor. “I did it, Regina!” 

“Yes, you did, my dear,” Regina agreed and cupped her cheeks. She smiled and there was a twinkle in her eyes and a hint of teasing in her voice as she said: “can it be? Can it be miss Swan? Bravo! What a change! You’re really not one bit the gawkish girl that once you were...”

“Don’t tease me,” Emma said and mock-pouted a bit. 

“You may not remember that, but I remember it,” Regina said fondly as she released Emma’s face and then glanced over her. “Oh.”

It didn’t take Emma long to figure out what had caused the ‘oh’. The skirt had fallen to the floor. Meaning that she was standing here in only the shimmering bodice, sheer stockings, and panties. 

Regina immediately turned around.

“You don’t have to do that,” Emma half-complained. “It’s not like I’m nak-“

“Just get dressed, dear.”

Regina’s tone didn’t invite her to argue, so instead of wasting time, Emma went over to the chair and picked up the white dressing gown with the ruffles. 

“What happened to the gawkish girl?” Regina asked and chuckled slightly. 

“Don’t you know?” Emma said warmly as she fidgeted with the sleeves on the dressing gown. “She once was visited by an angel. An Angel of Music...” she chuckled and could barely keep the amusement out of voice as she goofily sang: “’I once spoke with an Angel, I used to dream she’d appear. Now as I sing, I can sense her, and I know she’s here!’” she slipped her arms through the sleeves on the dressing gown. She tied it around her waist and spun around. Gave Regina a little tap on the shoulder to indicate that she was dressed, and then she continued the joke: “’Here in this room, she calls me softly, somewhere inside, hiding! Somehow I know, she’s always with me! She, the unseen genius...’”

“I’ll say. An ‘Angel of Music’?” Regina echoed, laughing as she went along on the joke. “My dear, you must have been dreaming. Stories like that can’t come true. My dear, you’re talking in riddles and it’s not like you...’”

“’Angel of Music, guide and guidance,’” Emma dreamily and quietly sang to herself. “’Grant to me, your glory-‘”

“Who is this angel?” Regina half-laughed, but then she joined in: “’this Angel of Music-‘”

“’Hide no longer! Secret and strange Angel,’” Emma sang with her although her voice was scratchy. Then she laughed as she took Regina’s hands in her own. “She’s with me even now,” she proclaimed and grinned. 

“Your hands are damp.”

“-All around me...”

“Your face, miss Swan, is flushed.”

“-it pleases me!”

“That your face is flushed?” Regina gently mocked as she reached within the hidden pocket of her dress and found a single red with a black rose tied around the stem. “For you. My darling.”

“Thank you,” Emma beamed as she took the rose and brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. “It smells wonderful. I love it!”

“Good. That was the intention,” Regina said. Then she went quiet.

Emma was curious as to why and looked up at Regina again. Saw how she let her gaze rake over her for a moment, and Emma was sure she saw a shadow of something in Regina’s eyes. 

“What?” she asked gently. 

“This dressing gown....” Regina muttered as she let go of Emma’s hands to touch the ruffles on the dressing gown lightly. 

Then Emma realized why this dressing gown had seemed so familiar. Because she had seen a copy of it in the lair. The dressing gown Christine Daaé once had worn. “Oh,” she whispered. “I can.... I can find my own clothes.”

“No,” Regina said immediately. “This IS your clothes, Little Swan. This dressing gown belongs to the star of the concert. And that is you. There is no reason why you should not wear it just because someone else once wore a copy.” 

“But if it’s painful for you-“

“It is not,” Regina interrupted. “Because this is you, Little Swan. Not someone else. You.” She touched the ruffles on the dressing gown again. “I’ve told you once before, I’ve never had any problems with telling the two of you apart. Not once. I see you as YOU. Emma Swan.”

“I wasn’t doubting you,” Emma said quickly. “I just didn’t want this to hurt you.”

“The only thing hurting me is that I have not yet kissed you,” Regina teased. “Come here.” then she took Emma in her arms and kissed her. 

Emma melted into the kiss. Threw her arms around Regina’s neck again and stood on her tippytoes to be tall enough to reach. Her heart started pounding in her chest, and now she felt breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with her voice being tired. 

After a moment, they broke the kiss, but Emma did not pull back in the slightest. She remained standing with her arms around Regina’s neck, and still on her tippy toes. “I wish I didn’t have to go with my parents,” she muttered against the crook of Regina’s neck. “I can go to that silly hotel another time. I would much rather celebrate this with you...” 

“Don’t be silly,” Regina laughed. “Of course you want to go with your parents. You’re supposed to buy me a dress, remember? And besides....” she elegantly freed herself from Emma’s embrace. “I think that your way of ‘celebrating’ is bordering inappropriate, dear.” 

“I don’t care!” Emma said defiantly and lifted her chin. 

“I care,” Regina said lightly and shrugged. “I care very much.”

Emma couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Right. Of course. Sorry.” She turned around and looked at herself in the mirror as she tried to unfasten the crown from her head. She didn’t succeed, and it didn’t take long before her movements became impatient.

Regina sighed too as she walked up behind Emma and batted her hands away. Her movements were gentle as she carefully unfastened the crown from Emma’s hair. “Why are you apologizing?” she asked simply. 

Emma blushed and averted her eyes. “For... You know, being so.... eager.”

Regina sighed too. Heavily. So heavily Emma had to look up. And she was surprised and slightly offended to see that Regina was rolling her eyes. She was about to say something snarky when Regina said: 

“And you don’t think that I am eager?” 

“I...” all snark was lost and Emma’s mouth went completely dry. 

“You don’t think that I am not thinking about it all the time?” Regina calmly continued. “Believe me, I do. In fact I’m struggling to keep it together right now. It’s a struggle to touch you-“ she lifted the crown from Emma’s head and smoothed her free hand over Emma’s hair. “-And at the same time, NOT touch you. It’s agonizing. There. Now you’ll avoid any headache.” She sat the crown down on the table.

“Then why are we holding back?” it bursted out of Emma. “Why can’t we just-“

“Don’t test me. If I had any less control over my actions, your dress would be on the floor and I would have you against- never mind.” Regina gave a short laugh and shot Emma a fond look. “There is a time and a place, my darling. And that time nor place isn’t here.”

Before Emma could answer, there was a knock on the door and her mom calling: “Emma? Honey, can we come in? Your father and I are so eager to see you!”

It wasn’t a nice thing to do, but Emma couldn’t help but groaning. “I wish you could stay,” she whispered. “I wish I was gonna stay!”

“Hush now,” Regina soothed and brushed her thumb over Emma’s cheek. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder...” then she crouched down and began to move the loose floorboards aside. 

“Emma? Can we come in?”

“Just a minute!” Emma called. “I’m just getting changed!”

Regina had now pulled the loose floorboards aside and had exposed the secret opening underneath. She wiggled her legs through the opening. Then she looked back at Emma. Flashed her a crooked little smile and put a finger on her lips in a ‘shhh’-manner. With that, she disappeared through the hole. Emma heard the slight thud when Regina landed, and she wondered how far down solid ground really   
was. 

The floorboards creaked slightly as Regina pushed them back where they belonged. 

As soon as Regina had disappeared through the hole, Emma crouched down and made sure that the floorboards truly were back in place. She wasn’t interested in having either of her parents accidentally stepping through the hole. And discovering Regina. 

She rose to her full height again and went over to unlock the door. Was met by her parents’ smiling faces. Then nearly crushed under their attention as both of them fell over her and hugged her tightly.

“Emma, honey! It is so wonderful to see you!”

“We have missed you SO much, sweetie!”

“You look amazing, sweetheart! What a costume!”

“And so much makeup! You look so different!”

“All grown up!”

“To suddenly see our little girl being the head soprano on stage!”

“Yes, what a concert you gave, Princess! You were fantastic!”

“And what a beautiful necklace you have!” her mom said as she carefully reached out and delicately touched the swan pendant resting in the column of Emma’s throat. 

“Oh, that’s just one I bought,” Emma replied, the lie effortlessly rolling off her tongue. 

Her parents did not notice that she was lying, but Emma was certain she could feel the slightest of tapping against her feet coming from underneath the floorboards.... 

To Be Continued..........

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope you'll be gentle with me.


End file.
